Silent Scream

by Karen Harper

  The first thing he heard and thought he must be imagining was the whap-whap of rotor blades. Was he remembering the wreck? But a blinding floodlight shot through the black sky to fix on them. A rescue chopper overhead?

  “Jace! Jace! They’ve found us, they’re all around!” a female voice screamed.

  Brit. She’d made it. She must have seen or heard the rescue chopper, but who was all around? Mitch sucked in a breath, coughing, gagging, then another.

  But in the reflected light of the search beam as the chopper circled overhead, Jace realized they likely hadn’t been found by search and rescue. For in that beam, when it wasn’t boring into his eyes, he saw pairs of glowing eyes, reflecting the light.

  He’d been gator hunting with Bronco once, where they located their prey by shining lights into their eyes. He knew what those were.

  * * *

  “Claire, we can’t get farther into this swampy area,” Nick insisted, as he drove the unlit road near the small airport, following the big beam of light up ahead. That must be a second chopper, searching for the wreck. And it was circling one spot.

  “Then we can go on foot,” Claire insisted, leaning toward the dashboard and looking up.

  “They have professionals out here searching,” he told her, stopping their car but reaching over to be sure she didn’t get out. “I know you’re blaming yourself, but you couldn’t know the chopper would go down.”

  “Poor Brit too! I asked her for this favor. What if some drug czar is still out to get Jace and Mitch? That picture in the paper may have been the wrong move. Nick, look, I see vehicle lights heading out there on the road.”

  “If it is criminals after them, we can’t go closer. I’ll call Jensen’s police station, ask them to let him know. They may send help too.”

  “No, look! One of the vehicles out there is some sort of police car or rescue vehicle—a blinking light bar, see? Reminds me of when we got to Twisted Tree the night Marian died. Hope that’s—that’s not an omen,” she added and burst into tears. “You know, with her body so charred from that fire that they’re taking so long with the autopsy. Nick, please just go a little closer. If we can help... I’ve got to help, to know...for Lexi.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Yeah, for all of us. Jace is my friend too,” he told her, regretting he’d not trusted him lately—or Claire’s feelings for him.

  He turned on the car’s bright lights again and drove carefully down the bumpy road behind the lighted vehicles, toward the hovering helicopter which seemed balanced atop its light beam in the black sky.

  * * *

  “Brit, can you climb a tree?” Jace shouted. “There’s gators!”

  “I saw one. I am up a tree. But help on the ground must be coming!”

  Damn, what a hell of a brave woman! But what if those gators came in the water after him and Mitch or tried to snatch them on the bank? He’d seen those prehistoric hangovers drag their prey into the water to drown and devour it.

  “I can swim,” Mitch gasped out. “Better off on the bank.”

  “I can hit them with something here caught on my foot,” Jace said and reached down to free his ankle. He thought it was a piece of broken rotor blade at first, but it was something else. Shiny plastic. Black. It would have to do.

  They both swam toward Brit’s voice as she called encouragement. Jace crawled quickly up on the bank, then helped Mitch out. Though the chopper noise was still loud, Jace heard what he knew was a gator roar. Then, damn, here came Brit stumbling toward them to help drag Mitch to his feet.

  A cluster of cabbage palms loomed before them. They’d get cut climbing those, but who cared? Better than a gator’s teeth. He’d hit the gators right across the eyes if they attacked, or if these were hit men to try to finish them off. His thoughts—his ideas—foggy—floating...

  Mosquitoes swarmed them, though that was nothing next to gators. Brit tried to swat the swarm of bugs away as men on foot with more lights burst into the area.

  Gators or not, Jace was going to make them all hit the ground. If those men had guns, they were doomed.

  “Airport search and rescue!” a man shouted. In the beam of the man’s flashlight, for the first time, Jace could see they had missed the island, though this ground was swampy.

  “Alligators here!” Jace shouted, but they could see and hear the beasts smacking into the water to get away from the noise and the men.

  Brit burst into tears of relief. Jace sat Mitch on the ground where the guy looked dazed but at least conscious. In the looming lights he saw his friend had a big bruise blooming on his forehead. Hell, flying through hurricanes would be a snap after this.

  Then—amazing—he heard Claire’s voice. No, maybe he was hallucinating again. But there she was, crying, pushing closer, fighting her way along the narrow sandy bank on dry land that appeared to be across from a decent-sized mangrove island the chopper had just missed. Thank God, the gators had just vacated the area.

  “Good landing, pal,” Jace said to Mitch as his buddy shook his head, trying to clear it. “Is this real? Is she really here?”

  “I’m so sorry I asked you to do this, Brit!” Claire cried, hugging Brit who hugged her back, before Claire embraced Jace too. Nick was here, right behind Claire, and he hugged Jace too.

  They all huddled, Claire and Nick now holding up the two of them, sopping wet. “What’s that you’re holding, Jace?” Nick asked.

  That’s right, Jace thought. He’d hauled a weapon of sorts out of the water. He stared down in shock at the dark plastic piece of chopper blade under his left arm. No, not that. It was the chopped-up rotor of a drone.

  30

  Claire thought it was like a reunion at Naples Community Hospital that next afternoon—family and friends plus Ken Jensen visiting Jace and Mitch. The two friends were in the same hospital room, both under concussion protocol watch as well as being treated for cuts, contusions and some water intake, not to mention mosquito bites, which Claire and Nick had been scratching at too.

  Mitch, who had some water still in his lungs, had been sedated since he’d been delirious with a fever, raving and trying to get out of bed, but by late afternoon the day after the crash, he had calmed down and his fever was gone.

  Brit had been treated for bruises in the ER last night, but, amazingly, was in the best shape of the three of them. More power to women, Claire thought. The stubborn Brit had camped out next to Jace’s bed last night.

  Claire was so thankful the three of them were not seriously hurt. She’d promised Jace she’d bring Lexi to see him. After conferring with Detective Jensen, Nick had gone to pick Lexi up from school to bring her to see Jace. Claire had not gone to Black Bog as she’d planned, but had phoned to tell Andrea only that she had to visit a friend in the hospital. If the Vances could hold things back, she could too. But she had also called Kris to tell her what happened and that Mitch was going to be fine.

  As Claire paced alone in the waiting room down the hall, Ken Jensen came in after interviewing both men and Brit.

  “Nick’s not back yet?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

  “He should be soon. He’s agreed to bring our daughter here for a short visit, because Jace and Mitch are going to disappear to Washington, DC, when they’re released.”

  “So I hear. Hope that means they won’t get targeted again. They said they needed to go there for training anyway.”

  “We’re grateful for the officer you stationed outside their door. Washington won’t be exactly the witness protection program, but they probably told you that Jace notified their new government flight boss what happened.”

  “Yeah. They told me. The two new hurricane hunters sound like they’ve been the hunted so far.”

  “Detective, the thing is, if this mess isn’t solved, they may be too big of a risk for that new assignment they’re so excited about. At least Jace considers a big
busy hospital—with a police officer—safe for a little time with Lexi. Not seeing Lexi has been hard on him—on both of them.”

  “I can understand. Meanwhile, dealing with drug lords, if that’s who’s after them, is out of my element,” Jensen admitted. “Except for an occasional low-level arrest, that is. Since there doesn’t seem to be any reason Brittany Hoffman would have enemies, she may just have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “My fault, since I asked them to go across the state to do a favor for me.”

  “So you said—and that’s all you’re saying?” he asked, looking narrow-eyed at her. “None of the walking wounded are talking about where or why they went, and Nick said it’s up to you to tell me. The thing is either someone’s following them closely to know they took that helicopter, or else it was a random act by an idiot—not uncommon in this new world of drones. Everyone’s on edge that a drone is going to bring down a passenger jet someday.”

  “Jace—my ex—used to fly those.”

  “Nice try at a topic change. So he told me. Fighter jets and travel jets, he called them. Look, Claire, there were no fingerprints on the drone, since it’s been scoured by water and sand, but then there were none on the one at the country club either. By the way, no one in the helicopter blames you and they were glad to run the favor for you. That’s all they’ll say. I repeat, want to tell me more?”

  “Not unless I have to. Nothing illegal, but my current assignment needs to remain private until—well, until the project is announced. I’m afraid I can’t tell you more right now.”

  “I’ll bet it’s that you won’t more than you can’t. Let’s sit down,” he said gesturing to a round table with four chairs. He pulled out one for her and himself. He put his phone on the table, stared at something on it for a moment, then went on, “Claire, I suppose your favorite lawyer will have a fit I’m asking this without him here, but just answer this. Could the drone attack on their helicopter have anything to do with this little mission you sent them on?”

  She startled. “I can’t see how. No one but them knew about it. The drone—like you said, it must have been some idiot targeting a random helicopter or else the drug lords you mentioned. I’m sure Jace and Mitch told you there have been hits on Stingray pilots elsewhere.”

  “Yeah, and it needs to stay elsewhere. So this special advisory assignment you’re on—no links to Marian James and pricy, historic real estate, right? I looked at your Clear Path website, and I see in the past you’ve advised various local companies about interviewing staff or vetting job applicants, even detecting fraud.” He tapped his cell phone and her website came up on it. He lifted the phone and waved it at her, before tapping her homepage off. “Were your ex-husband and two friends over in Lauderdale on a fraud case, anything like that? I’m just groping in the dark on this.”

  “No one has hired me to look into fraud for several years,” she protested, but her mind was racing. She had sent two men and a woman to check out the possible misuse of bog artifacts, so would that be considered fraud or theft? Had the ancient bog trio committed some similar crime and died for it?

  She didn’t want to lie to this man, but she could hardly confess her reasoning. Besides, just as with Dale’s act of arson on his own land, the artifacts were found on private property. Even if the Vances had been told she’d been in their Naples shop asking about ancient artifacts, there was no way they could have known she was checking on them through friends across the state. She hadn’t even told Kris about her suspicions.

  “Did Nick have time to tell you the findings on Marian James’s autopsy?” Jensen asked, surprising her at the sudden change in topic as he pocketed his cell phone.

  “No,” she said sitting forward, elbows on the table. “It must have just come out. Obviously, cause of death would be the fire. She must have been burned to death or died from smoke inhalation first.”

  “Neither, because the ME says she was dead by then. She had a high carbon monoxide level in her lungs. No throat damage because she wasn’t breathing when the fire spread. She was choked to death—strangled. Her hyoid bone at the front of her throat was broken, just like Cyndi Lindley’s.”

  * * *

  “So, Lexi,” Nick said once they were in his car, “I need to explain something to you.”

  It had taken him a lot longer to get her out of school than he’d planned. He understood safety protocol, but the secretary had to consult the assistant principal and he had to show ID because Claire, Darcy and Jace were the only three people on the safe-to-go list. That annoyed him. Sure, he was always at the firm when Lexi was finished with school for the day, but Claire should have thought to put his name on the permission list anyway.

  “Okay, I’m listening,” she said, sounding very adult, as if to calm him. “You said Mommy’s okay, but I heard you say we are going to the hospital.”

  “Yes, Mommy’s okay. Your dad is okay too”

  “Remember, you’re Dad and my real dad is Daddy.”

  “Right. The thing is your real father is just fine but he’s in the hospital because the helicopter he was in with Brit and his friend Mitch had an accident. But no one is hurt bad.”

  “How bad, though?” she said, turning to him. “And Brit’s gonna be my stepmother. You sure she’s all right?”

  “Yes, honey, she’s all right. Jace—your Daddy—just has some cuts and bruises, but he wants to see you.”

  He saw out of the corner of his eye that she folded her arms over her chest. “He didn’t want to see me before.”

  “Yes, he really did, but he was afraid to. Darn it, Lexi, I’m going to talk to you like an adult now, so I want you to act like one, all right? Can you?”

  “Was he flying the plane? He loves planes.”

  “No, he wasn’t flying, his friend Mitch was. I’ll let your Daddy tell you. But the thing is, someone must have been angry with him or his friend Mitch or even Brit. I know you’ve been angry with him for staying away lately, but he wanted really badly to see you and does now too.”

  “Somebody bad is after him?” she asked, frowning, almost pouting.

  “We—I—don’t know. Maybe they are after Mitch, and your Daddy was with him. You’re going to see a policeman there guarding them, so don’t be afraid. Your Daddy needs you to hug him and smile, not to be angry with him when it wasn’t his fault. You know adults and parents sometimes have hard times too, just like kids.”

  She heaved a huge sigh and reached over to touch his arm. “I love him, but I love you too, Dad, ’cause you love my Mommy and me too.”

  He had to blink back tears. “I sure do, Lexi. And I want to be not only your stepdad—your Dad—but your friend.”

  She patted his arm as if to reassure him. “Mommy loves you too, even if she worries about my real Daddy sometimes. I’ll try to think like an adult—like you said—but don’t tell her you said I’m grown up now, ’cause she might get upset. I want to take care of her but it’s hard sometimes.”

  He was thinking You got that right, but he said only, “Then we agree on that. Good.” Emotion swamped him so hard he almost lost his voice. He blinked back tears blurring his vision, so he wouldn’t steer them off the road.

  * * *

  After Lexi hugged Claire, Claire took her in to see Jace. The dividing curtain was closed between his and Mitch’s beds.

  Across the curtain, Kris had just come with flowers for Mitch. “I should be sending you those!” Claire had heard Mitch tell Kris. “So glad to see you—and no ice skates this time.”

  Claire had noticed that Kris had hesitated at the door to the room for a moment, staring at a sleeping Jace, before Claire had pointed and whispered to her, “Mitch is in the bed by the window.” With a nod and a squeeze of her arm, Kris had walked farther in. That face blindness, Claire thought. Could any man of a certain age in a hospital bed and a hospital gown pass for Mitch to Kris at f
irst?

  Just before Claire stepped out, she saw Lexi squeal and make a dash for Jace. He startled, opened his eyes and embraced her in a huge hug, then pulled her up to sit on his bed. He smiled at Claire over the child’s head before Claire stepped out into the hall. Nick leaned there against the wall, looking tired and upset.

  “The school didn’t want me to take her at first,” he said.

  “Oh—sorry. I guess I forgot to put you on the list.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d like to be at the head of it.”

  “Let’s go down the hall,” she suggested, and they walked together. “You are at the head of my list, Nick. It’s just that I overlooked it because you’re always working when she gets out. I’ll fix that right away.” She linked her arm through his, and he pulled her closer to his side. “We’ve come through a lot. I thank God we have each other.”

  They sat on a sofa next to a potted palm and a window. They could see Jace’s hospital door from there.

  “Lexi’s amazing,” he told her. “She ended up comforting me in a way.”

  “She has her moments.”

  Still holding her hand, he leaned back and heaved a huge sigh. “Hopefully, all of us do. I see Jensen’s gone but I’m agonizing over whether to level with him about Dale’s Nazi connection, with Dale’s permission, of course.”

  “Which he may not give you.”

  “I think I could convince him.”

  “And I’m agonizing about not telling him anything about what’s going on at Black Bog. But what about the possible Cyndi–Marian James connection? Did our favorite detective tell you the results of Marian’s autopsy, at least what the ME can tell so far? Are two strangulation deaths and two broken hyoid bones enough of a connection to assume they had the same killer?”

  “Jensen thinks so. I do too. Is there any way you can do a little very private research for me into Marian’s life—friends, enemies? Heck is too busy with this idea he has for an invention.”