Freefall (No)

by Jill Sorenson

  Hope bit her tongue to keep from laughing, but it was no use. She snorted, and that always set Faith off. They both dissolved in a mixture of giggles and tears. That’s how Special Agent Sharon Ling found them.

  Ling had glossy black hair, sharp eyes and a sturdy figure in unflattering clothes. After introducing herself, she asked Faith a number of questions, but she didn’t get much information out of her. Faith couldn’t offer any specific details about her kidnappers or the location where she’d been held. Her responses became shorter and less helpful as the interview wore on. She looked and sounded exhausted.

  “My sister is very tired,” Hope said.

  Ling took a few photos from her briefcase and handed them to Hope. “This is Javier Del Norte, the man who infiltrated the rafting trip.”

  The first image was grainy, showing a handsome, dark-haired man in sunglasses. He appeared to be boarding a private plane.

  “He works for Hector Gonzales, the head of one of Las Vegas’s top cartels.”

  Hope studied Gonzales, committing him to memory.

  “The next photo is of Martin Hinojosa, now deceased.”

  “I recognize him,” Hope said.

  “Both Ted Harvey and Caleb Renfro identified him as the shooter.”

  “How are they?” Faith asked.

  “Lucky to be alive, like you. Renfro’s leg was broken in two places. They think he’ll walk with a limp.”

  Faith closed her eyes, seeming both relieved and disturbed by this news. Hope came to the last picture. It featured a young man with shaggy brown hair. He might have been Poncho, but she wasn’t sure.

  “We think this was Hinojosa’s companion.”

  Hope returned the photos without further comment. Ling passed them to Faith, who examined each face. After pointing out Hinojosa as the man who shot Caleb Renfro, she paused on Del Norte. “Can I keep this?”

  Special Agent Ling exchanged a glance with Hope. She probably thought Faith had Stockholm syndrome. “Keep them all,” she said, giving Faith a manila envelope. “My contact information is inside.”

  Ling pulled Hope aside for a private conversation. “We can’t protect her unless she cooperates.”

  “I’ll protect her,” Hope said.

  “Who will protect you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just that you should lie low for a while. You shot a connected criminal, and they know who you are.”

  “You think they’ll come after me?”

  “No. I’m warning you not to go after them.”

  Hope didn’t plan to. While she was on administrative leave, her weeks would be filled with counseling sessions and psychological evaluations, not vigilante justice. For the next few days, she wasn’t going to leave Faith’s side. Anyone who wanted to mess with her sister had to get through Hope first.

  After the FBI agent left, Faith gazed at Javier’s picture for several moments. Then she put it away with the others. Nurse Parker reappeared, reporting that the sedative in Faith’s bloodstream should wear off soon.

  “I want to go home,” Faith said. “My sister can drive me.”

  The nurse agreed to start the discharge paperwork.

  Hope’s cell phone vibrated with missed calls from their mother. She had to answer before her mother freaked out. “I’ll be right back,” Hope promised, returning to the lobby. As she made her way to the glass doors, someone said her name. She turned to see Doug Dixon rising from a chair in the waiting room. He was a handsome man, stocky and strong, his brown hair starting to gray. Maybe Sam’s criticisms of him were fresh in her mind, because he looked older than she remembered—and she’d just seen him last week.

  Had Doug taken advantage of his power by pursuing a relationship with her? She’d never felt coerced. Their breakup had been amiable. He’d promoted her after their relationship was over, so she didn’t think he held a grudge.

  “I came as soon as I heard,” he said.

  Hope crossed her arms over her chest, unsure what to say.

  “She’s okay, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Where was she?”

  “She doesn’t know. She was blindfolded the whole time.” The exaggeration sprang to her lips with ease. Although Hope wasn’t a practiced liar, she was more interested in protecting Faith than telling the truth, even to her boss.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “You can catch the bastards who took her.”

  “I’m working on it,” he said, his gaze narrow. “They’ve got some balls, kidnapping a woman in my park and shooting at one of my rangers.”

  She was surprised by his language. He rarely cursed or became irate. “I tried to contact you on channel three.”

  “When?”

  “Before the shooting.”

  He made an apologetic face. “I had no idea. I’ve been juggling a dozen different things. The sheriff, local media, NPS.” His cell phone rang, giving credence to the claim. “Sorry, Hope. I have to get back to the park now.”

  She said goodbye and watched Doug stride away. He seemed like a different man. Maybe he’d changed. Maybe she had. She couldn’t remember why she’d been drawn to him. He was polite and attractive, but sort of bland.

  Frowning, she stepped out of the E.R. to use her cell phone. Her parents were just outside town, so she couldn’t dissuade them from coming to the hospital. While she rubbed the tight muscles in her neck, trying to answer her mother’s frantic questions, she noticed Sam walking through the parking lot.

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  “What’s wrong, dear?”

  “Nothing, Mom. I’ll see you soon.”

  He was wearing the same clothes from last night, loose-fitting jeans and a polo shirt. His short, dark hair capped his head so closely it almost wasn’t there. It was spare, bare minimum, like the rest of him.

  Her heart skipped a beat at the sight. She’d never reacted this way to Doug.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “Okay,” she said, nibbling her lower lip. Sam wasn’t as easy to lie to. He looked closer. “She’s not...injured.”

  Curiosity flickered in his eyes. He picked up on the nuances in her body language better than Doug had. Hope didn’t want to tell him that Faith might have been sexually assaulted. She felt sick about it. She should have been thinking about her sister last night, instead of begging Sam to “hurt” her.

  God.

  Between her and Faith, she didn’t know who had worse taste in men. Her sister had become infatuated with a drug smuggler. Hope was falling for a risk-addicted amnesiac. They were both crazy.

  “Someone drugged her and dumped her by the side of the road.”

  He swore under his breath. “Have they made any arrests?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “What can I do?”

  She sighed, shaking her head. Now that he was here, she felt an overwhelming urge to lean on him. “Come with me to the gift shop?”

  He followed her inside, watching while she chose a pair of slippers, a soft T-shirt and some drawstring pants for Faith. When he put the charges on his credit card, she thanked him. He just shrugged, as if he’d bought her a cup of coffee.

  Her parents were in the lobby. Her mother’s eyes lit up at the sight of her with a man. Even during a family crisis, Joy Banning could find a bright side.

  Hope gave her parents a hug before introducing them.

  Sam’s social skills weren’t as rusty as he let on. He shook her father’s hand with deference and smiled at her mother. They both radiated approval. Maybe they knew he was a former Olympian.

  “We can’t thank you enough for saving Hope,” Joy said.

  Sam acknowledged their appreciation with a nod, clearing his throat. His awkward sidelong glance plucked at Hope’s heartstrings. He stayed in the lounge while she took her parents to visit Faith. Her sister downplayed the incident, insisting that she was fine.

  The hospital discharged her shortly after. Hope ex
pected more interviews from different law enforcement agencies, but the sheriff’s department said she was free to go. They couldn’t prosecute her kidnappers if she never identified them. Faith didn’t know anything, so the chances of retaliation were slim.

  Hope accompanied Faith to the restroom on the way out. “Sam is here,” she said while Faith changed into the gift shop clothes.

  “Sam Rutherford?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story,” Hope said, studying her reflection in the mirror. She looked as if she hadn’t brushed her hair for a week. “He bought you those clothes.”

  “They’re hideous.”

  “Do you want me to get rid of him?”

  “Not until I check him out.”

  Hope knew she couldn’t have a future with Sam, but she cared what Faith thought of him. Unlike her parents, Faith had an unfavorable opinion based on Hope’s miserable account of their one-night stand. The sisters rejoined their parents and they all walked to the lounge. Sam rose from a chair as soon as he saw them.

  “This is Faith,” Hope said.

  When Faith didn’t offer her hand, he dropped his own. His gaze moved back and forth between them, as if noting their similarities. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said to Faith. “Hope has told me a lot about you.”

  “She told me a few things about you also.”

  He had the grace to flush. Of course, he knew what Faith was alluding to. “It was nice to meet you,” he said, including her parents in the statement. After promising to call Hope later, he left.

  Faith agreed to a meal in the cafeteria to placate their worried mother. The circles under her eyes stood out in stark relief under the harsh fluorescent lights. She picked at her food, taking a few bites of custard.

  Joy suggested a hotel room for the night. “You can relax in the Jacuzzi.”

  “I just want to go home,” Faith said.

  “To Ojai?”

  “To L.A.,” she clarified.

  It was late afternoon when the Bannings finally bade them tearful goodbyes. As Hope climbed behind the wheel, she said, “Are you sure you want to go home?”

  Faith found her sunglasses and put them on. “Yes, Mom.”

  “I’m not trying to mother you.”

  “I just want to feel normal again,” Faith said, looking out the window. “I want my makeup, and my shoes. I want smog, and traffic, and tall buildings.”

  “Okay,” Hope said. “I don’t have to be back until Monday.”

  “You can spend a long weekend with me. We’ll see art shows.”

  She understood that Faith took comfort in fashion and city culture. Hope would drive her sister all the way to New York, if necessary. She stopped at Starbucks, ordering Faith’s favorite iced drink.

  “He’s hot,” she said, taking a contemplative sip.

  “Who?”

  “Your rock climber.”

  Hope didn’t say anything.

  “I embarrassed him.”

  “He deserved it.”

  She reached across the console, taking Hope’s hand.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  FAITH AWOKE with a start.

  Late afternoon sunlight poured through the cracks in the window blinds, making tiger stripes across her body. Her pulse was racing, her skin damp with perspiration. She sat up in bed, lifting the hair off the back of her neck.

  Hope stood at the doorway.

  Faith had slept for most of the past two days while her sister puttered around the apartment, double-checking locks and monitoring foot traffic on the sidewalk below. She lived on a busy street, so Hope could profile strangers to her heart’s content.

  “A nightmare?”

  Faith nodded, reaching for the water by her bedside. She drank thirstily and padded to the bathroom. She looked awful.

  “That’s it,” she said to her pale, scared-rabbit reflection.

  “What?” Hope asked.

  “We’re going out tonight.”

  Faith turned on the water and stepped in the shower stall, wallowing in the comfort of the pulsing spray. She’d taken several long showers since she got home, but she hadn’t managed to regain her sense of calm.

  She told herself that anyone in her position would be jumpy. She’d been kidnapped and assaulted. It would take time before she felt relaxed again.

  Some of the memories were sharper than others, like fragments of glass in her psyche. Caleb’s shooting. Nick, chasing her through the woods. Javier’s boss, rubbing his knuckles against her cheek.

  She sympathized with Caleb and Ted. Their attempt to rescue her had been a quest for thrills and personal glory, but neither deserved to be attacked. Nick’s personal assault disturbed her more than the brutal violence she’d witnessed on the hiking trail, however. She couldn’t wash away his touch.

  When Faith got out of the shower, she took pains with her appearance. Her hair was blow-dried, straightened and curled under like a ’40s pinup. She put on a vampy dress and slick heels. Full makeup with red lips completed the look.

  After primping herself, she turned her attention to Hope. Her sister had borrowed a navy shirtwaist dress, one of the plainest items in Faith’s closet. The fabric hugged her curvier figure, emphasizing her bust and hips.

  “This doesn’t fit,” Hope said.

  Faith disagreed. “It’s perfect.”

  They wore the same size shoes, and Hope humored her by donning a pair of wedge sandals that did great things for her legs. She also let Faith doll her up with mascara, eye shadow and lip gloss.

  “You should keep that dress,” Faith said. On impulse, she picked up her cell phone to capture the moment. Smiling, she held her arm out straight and leaned in close to Hope as she snapped a photo.

  “Don’t post this on Facebook. It’s too...celebratory.”

  Faith studied the image, puzzled. Although she looked confident and stylish, she didn’t feel that way.

  They walked to her favorite sushi restaurant. A couple of guys checked them out as they passed the bar. Usually, Faith enjoyed this type of attention. Tonight, it made her skin crawl. Instead of flashing a flirtatious smile, she avoided eye contact.

  She’d told her sister everything about the kidnapping, including the quasi rape. Hope had also shared her side of the story. When she admitted to sleeping with Sam, Faith didn’t judge; she pressed for details.

  As soon as they were seated, Hope glanced at her cell phone screen. With a small frown, she turned it off.

  “Is that him again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you answer?”

  “I’m spending time with you.”

  “You’re ignoring him.”

  The waiter appeared to take their drink order. Faith requested an appletini. Hope asked for white wine.

  They’d discussed the sequence of events, but they hadn’t talked much about feelings. Faith understood that Sam Rutherford had some issues. So did Hope. “Are you going to go out with him again?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? You said he was good in bed.”

  “That’s not everything.”

  “Being rich doesn’t hurt.”

  “Being a jerk does.”

  Although Faith agreed, her attitude toward Sam had changed. He’d saved her sister’s life repeatedly. She was willing to forgive his other flaws.

  “Would you see Javier again?” Hope asked.

  “I don’t have that option.”

  “What if you did?”

  “I’d see him.”

  Hope’s brown eyes softened with sympathy.

  Faith knew there was no chance for her to reunite with Javier, but...she missed him. Even though he was guilty of shocking criminal acts, and responsible for a situation that had gone violently wrong, she still wanted him. She wasn’t sure what depressed her more: the post-traumatic stress, or her broken heart.

  The waiter arrived with their drinks. After taking a sip of her crisp appletini, Faith ordere
d a plate of California-roll sushi for them to share. The appetizer came quickly. She selected one of the colorful shapes, adding a tiny dollop of wasabi.

  “I think he’s in love with you,” Faith mused.

  Hope almost choked on her sushi. When she recovered, she said, “You saw him for two seconds.”

  “Yeah, but he looked suitably ashamed after I was rude to him. He bought me that awful gift store outfit, and he was nice to the ’rents. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t have come to the hospital at all.”

  “He’s in love with his ex,” she said dismissively.

  “Then why’s he chasing you?”

  “Because he can’t have her. I’m his do-over. Melissa 2.0.”

  Faith popped another bite into her mouth, wondering if Hope was right. Sam had called her another woman’s name once. Minus points for that.

  “He also avoids reality, and he’s a loner who won’t face his past. There’s no way he can move on until he deals with his problems.”

  Faith chuckled at the criticisms, shaking her head. The ironic part was that Hope had just described herself.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  Hope turned the tables on her. “Are you in love with Javier?”

  Although Faith should have anticipated this question, it caught her off guard. She took another sip of her drink. “How could I be in love with him? We just met.”

  “I’ve spent the same amount of time with Sam.”

  “Your affair started months ago,” she said.

  “We didn’t have an affair. He screwed me three times and threw me out.”

  “Three times, really?”

  Her cheeks flushed pink. “What difference does it make?”

  “None, if he’s the only one who came.”

  Hope glanced around, as if worried someone could overhear their conversation.

  “I have this theory about female orgasms,” Faith continued, arching a brow. “You get closer to a man every time he gets you off.”

  “The important part is that he threw me out, not that he got me off,” Hope said in an embarrassed whisper.

  “He didn’t want you to see him in the morning.”