Page 21 of Final Approach (Lake City Heroes #4)

TEN

Kristine was watching her sister and praying when Emily opened her eyes.

“Hi,” Kristine whispered. A tear slid down Emily’s temple, wrenching Kristine’s heart from her chest. “It’s okay, Em, rest. Sleep and heal. You’re going to be fine.”

Moments later Emily slept again, her breathing a reassuring rhythm. Her face was black and blue where she’d hit her head, but the docs said there was no swelling on her brain, miraculously enough. She’d still need a lot of healing after the surgeries she’d been through.

Kristine glanced at her phone. A text from her flight instructor, Mac Adams, wanting to know when she planned to schedule her next solo flight.

She needed a minimum of ten hours’ solo flight time.

She grimaced and ignored the text. After her last solo attempt—the one she hadn’t told anyone about—she was terrified to try again.

She’d gone up, a healthy mix of excitement and fear thrumming through her veins.

Mostly excitement. She’d been ready to go, taxied down the runway, and taken off.

And then the engine cut out on her. She was certain she was going to die, and the memory of those few minutes of sheer terror, of letting God know she was ready if he was, was stamped in her mind.

The fear hadn’t really been for her, but of leaving Ethan and Emily without a buffer between them and their father.

Please take care of them , God. That was the prayer she uttered before the engine caught, sputtered, then caught again.

With her instructor’s calm but tense voice echoing in her ears, she managed to land the plane.

It was a rough landing, but she’d walked away.

And now, she didn’t know how she’d manage to go up again alone.

She walked out into the hall and found her father. He was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, head tilted upward. She placed a hand on his arm and he jerked to attention. “Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay. How’s she doing?”

“She woke up for a second, then slipped back under. She knew I was there.”

“Good. Good.” He raked a hand over his head. “I was on the way back and saw you in there. I decided to let you have your time and wait out here.”

“Oh. Well ... thanks.” Maybe?

His nostrils flared. “I can’t believe this happened. First you with the hijacking, now her with the wreck ... I may have a nervous breakdown. I can’t believe she would do this to me.”

Of course he would make it all about him. She bit her lip on the words she wouldn’t allow herself to utter. “Well, why don’t we just focus on helping her heal? And grieve. Remember, one of those friends died.”

“You didn’t tell her that, did you?”

She gaped at him. “Of course not!”

“Right. Sorry. Good.”

Kristine sucked in a calming breath. “Why don’t you go home for a few hours and get some sleep?

I’ll stay with her and doze in the little chair.

” His face would probably not be the one Emily wanted to see when she was able to stay awake a little longer.

And goodness knows, she didn’t need their father saying anything upsetting to her.

Like blaming her for not listening to him and being in the car in the first place.

He frowned. “No, I think I’ll stay here.”

“Suit yourself.” Kristine returned to the room and checked on her sleeping sister once more.

The nurse walked in to do the same. A loud growl from Kristine’s stomach raised the woman’s eyebrows, and Kristine held up a hand.

“No need to say anything. I’m going to grab something to eat.

” She looked back at her sister. “What if she wakes up, though?”

“I’m going to be here for a few minutes. If she wakes, I’ll tell her you’ll be right back.”

Kristine nodded. “Deal.”

She left the room, noting her father was gone, and made her way down to the main floor where smells from the cafeteria grew stronger.

At the sight of Andrew she stopped while her heart did a little happy dance.

He was with two other agents and Hank, who had a phone pressed to his ear.

She decided her stomach could just hold on a minute and headed toward them.

Hank hung up and pushed his way out of the hospital. The agents and Andrew followed.

Kristine stopped, disappointed that he left before she could get his attention.

She snorted and shook her head. She was acting like a lovesick teen.

She spun on her heel and headed to the cafeteria, grabbed her food, and made her way back to her sister’s room.

Her father hadn’t come back yet. Emily was still sleeping.

Kristine’s phone buzzed with a text from her aunt Wendy, her mother’s sister.

I’ve been delayed. Will be there as soon as I can.

Kristine tapped back.

No worries. I’m here and so is Dad. Somewhere. Ethan is on the way.

I’ve talked to Ethan. Think he’s having travel problems too.

Just be careful.

Will do. Love you, kiddo.

They were all “kiddo” to their aunt. She glanced at her watch. Visitors in the ICU were limited to thirty-minute increments. She’d stay until she was kicked out.

She texted Andrew.

Everything okay with you and Hank? I saw you guys on my way to the cafeteria, but didn’t want to interrupt. Hank looked upset.

She waited for the little dots to tell her he was responding. It took a minute, but they finally showed up.

We’re as okay as we can be. Hank learned someone from the gang turned up dead. It’s someone he’d been pumping for information and had gotten pretty tight with. He’s shaken, but handling it.

He thinks the guy’s dead because of him?

Yes. The guy was supposed to keep an eye on him. He believes that because Hank disappeared on that guy’s watch, he was killed. So he’s blaming himself.

Oh my. I’m sorry.

I am too. He’s sad, but dealing. Going to get him settled. Check in and let me know how Emily’s doing. I’m praying.

Thank you.

She reread the messages once more and said a prayer for Hank. She didn’t envy those who went undercover. It was a hard, risky, dangerous job. But someone had to do it. And in spite of her father’s insistence that her job was going to get her killed one day, her flights were mostly boring.

And that was the way she liked it.

HOURS AFTER HIS LAST TEXT with Kristine, Andrew lay in the strange bed in the unfamiliar house in a city that was starting to feel more like home than the one his house was located in.

It didn’t help that his wound throbbed a bit.

Enough to be annoying, not enough to make him want to get up and take anything.

He couldn’t help wondering how Kristine was doing and if she needed anything.

Hank was in his guest room and seemed to be settled, although he admittedly was still shaken about the call from the UC officer.

The guy who’d died wasn’t a true friend, and he and Hank had clashed on more than one occasion, but Hank hadn’t wanted him dead, and definitely not because he’d run.

Andrew tried to put a face to the name, but he couldn’t remember the guy.

He rolled over and punched the pillow while he let his eyes roam the room.

This was ridiculous. He sighed. He was wide awake. Why did he bother to even try sleeping? He’d never been able to nap, not unless he was absolutely exhausted. Which he wasn’t. He was simply tired.

He threw the covers off, pulled on sweats and a T-shirt, then walked into the den to take his laptop from the charger and sit at the kitchen table.

He typed in Marcus Brown , opened another tab, and typed Tabitha Brown , then Colleen Pearson.

He’d asked other agents to look into what Hank had told him about the guy named Hopper, but so far nothing had come in about that.

One thing Jacob had said echoed in the back of his head. The restaurant his father would use if he was going to meet someone. The same place he took his kids on the weekend.

Mike’s. The café on South Main. And the look on Jacob’s face when he mentioned it.

He pulled up the notes and saw that two agents had already been there and talked to the staff.

Yes, Marcus Brown was in there all the time.

No, they didn’t know who he might have met with to arrange a hijacking.

Everyone was shocked that the family man would do such a thing.

And there was no helpful security footage.

Andrew leaned back and blew out a low sigh. Now what? There had to be something. He texted Nathan.

I want to go by Mike’s. Wanna meet me there?

Sure. What for?

Just to check it out. If Brown was going there on a regular basis, I want to see what he saw, feel the atmosphere, etc. Maybe talk to the workers once more.

All of them were tracked down and questioned.

I know.

Okay, sure, I’ll be there in 15. At Mike’s not your place.

Andrew sent him a thumbs-up emoji, rose, and got dressed in work clothes.

He checked on Hank, who was out cold in the guest bed, then texted the agents on the house that he was leaving.

He beat the after-church lunch rush to the café.

Only a few tables were occupied, and he spotted Nathan seated at the bar.

Andrew nodded to his partner. “How’s it going? ” he asked.

“Nothing new. You?”

“Same.”

“What bugs you about this place?”

“Jacob.”

Nathan raised a brow. “Okay.”

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t know. Just something about his expression when he mentioned the place. Like it was ... longing.”

“Longing.”

“Yeah ... you know, like when you look at Jesslyn.” He smirked.

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “You really want to go there? Because I could bring up Kristine and your puppy-dog eyes.”

Andrew snorted, ignoring the heat climbing into his neck. “Dude...”

“Yes?”