Page 3 of Final Approach (Lake City Heroes #4)

TWO

Kristine made it to the detention center about five seconds ahead of Andrew and Nathan. The press was already camped out front, waiting to swoop in like a pack of vultures on fresh carrion. Scavenging for any pieces of story they could peck out.

“Kristine! Kristine!” The female voice stopped her, and Kristine turned to see her sister, Emily, among the reporters desperate for anything she’d toss in their direction. Emily shoved her way to the front of the pack, not caring one bit about the glares and unkind words hurled at her.

Kristine walked over to her and hugged her.

“You’re okay?” Emily asked. “Really okay?”

“As you can see, I’m fine.”

“I was so worried. So stinking scared. I...” She choked on her words. Her strawberry blond hair—an exact match in color to Kristine’s—fell around her shoulders in waves and gentle curls. Emily’s green eyes were narrowed and her remembered fear shone clear.

Kristine hugged her one more time. “Come on inside with me.” Emily followed her, Nathan, and Andrew into the building. Kristine looked at the men. “Can you give me five minutes?”

“Of course,” Andrew said.

They nodded to Emily and headed down the hallway to the interrogation room.

Kristine turned to her sister. “I’m fine. Truly. I texted Dad to let him know too.”

“He’s the one who called me. You could have texted us all at the same time.”

“I knew he’d let you know. And I wasn’t sure you didn’t know already.”

Emily sniffed, swiped a tear, then dug her pen and notebook from her purse. “Well, now that you mention it...”

Kristine huffed a short laugh. “No, sorry. I’ve got nothing to say.”

“Come on, I’m your sister. Give me the exclusive.”

“It’s an ongoing investigation. No one gets an exclusive. Not even my reporter sister. Sorry.”

Emily sighed. “I won’t push.”

“It’s nice to have one family member who won’t,” Kristine muttered.

“Just ignore whatever Dad says. You know he’s going to give you a hard time.”

“I know. I’ve got to go. Stay here and we’ll talk when I’m finished.”

Emily nodded and Kristine headed down the hallway. She couldn’t help thinking about her family dynamics, though.

She wanted to call her dad old-fashioned, but even that wasn’t exactly accurate. He’d been a strict disciplinarian, sparking defiance and rebellion in all of his children. Only their mother’s calm influence had softened his rough edges. But once she was gone...

Kristine shoved thoughts of her father from her mind and focused on the situation. While she wouldn’t be an active participant in the investigation—her job was done as soon as Brown was released into FBI custody—she’d be following this one very closely if the guys would agree.

She caught up with Nathan and Andrew. “Are you guys okay with me being in there?”

Andrew shrugged. “Fine with me.”

Nathan nodded. “You’ll have some good observations and questions we may not think of.”

“Thanks. Anyone find his wife?” she asked.

“Not yet. Ready?”

“Ready.” As the three of them entered the interrogation room, she stared at the man who’d just endangered a plane full of people.

And for what?

Andrew sat in the chair opposite the silent prisoner, who refused to look up. “All right, Mr. Brown,” Andrew said, “we’d like to hear your story.”

The words were soft, compassionate, curious. Kristine had never worked a case with Andrew or Nathan, so she was interested in their approach.

Nathan started to say something and Andrew shook his head. Nathan snapped his lips shut, leaned a shoulder against the wall, and crossed his arms.

Mr. Brown didn’t move.

Kristine followed Nathan’s example and stayed silent. But she really wanted to know why she was here and not almost to Key West.

“Mr. Brown?” Andrew pushed. “I have a feeling you didn’t want to hijack that plane today. I’d really like to know what compelled you to do so.”

Now the man lifted his head and looked Andrew in the eyes. “It’s Marcus.”

“All right, Marcus. I’m listening.”

“I’m dying.”

Kristine raised a brow, then bit her lip. Sometimes it was better to stay silent than prompt the suspect to keep talking.

“If you mean you’re literally dying, then I’m sorry to hear that,” Andrew said.

“That’s what I mean.” A pause. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Marcus blurted, his brown eyes confused, brow furrowed.

“I just did something I never would have thought I’d do.

Ever. And I did it for money. You should be yelling at me, beating me to a pulp, whatever. But you shouldn’t be nice to me.”

“You did it to pay for medical bills?” Nathan asked.

Marcus slumped and shook his head. “To leave for my family.” He sighed and dropped his chin to his chest once more. “I was diagnosed about ten weeks ago. We’re broke. Once I’m gone, my family will have nothing.”

“What about your wife?” Andrew asked. “She can’t work?”

“She cleans hotel rooms. We have six kids, a mortgage, and no family. We both grew up in the foster system, and while we’ve worked hard and built a good life, it’s still a hard one with both of us employed.

There’s no way she can support them by herself.

” Tears tracked his cheeks. “We wanted better for them,” he choked out.

“So when a man approached and asked me if I wanted to earn some money, but it would require great sacrifice, I said yes.”

“Who?” Kristine asked. She glanced at Andrew, who gave a slight nod.

He looked at her. “I don’t know. It’s not like he gave me his name.

Just handed me an envelope with fifty thousand dollars in it and said there was another one of those envelopes for my family if I did what he wanted me to do.

But there were all of you law enforcement people on the plane.

” He laughed without humor. “Of course there would be a whole SWAT team on there.” He glanced at Kristine.

“And an air marshal.” He heaved a sigh, then coughed.

And coughed. His face turned red and he finally wheezed to a strangled croak.

Kristine rose. “I’ll get medical help.”

But he raised a hand, and she paused. When he caught his breath, he shook his head. “It passes,” he finally managed to say. “Although it’s taking longer and longer. Back to the fact that there was an entire police force on the flight—I should have known.”

“Just a few of us are from SWAT,” Andrew said with a straight face, “but you met this guy who paid you in person?”

“Yes.”

“So you can work with a sketch artist and give us a description.”

“Not really. He kept a baseball cap on, wore sunglasses and a surgical mask.” He swallowed. “I know I’m in trouble, but I didn’t think I’d survive.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged.

“What exactly were you supposed to do once you got into the cockpit?”

“Demand the pilot take me to a different airport.”

Andrew exchanged a look with Kristine, and Nathan leaned forward. “Which one?”

“He said it didn’t matter, we just couldn’t land in Key West.”

“Okay. What did he say to do when you landed wherever you planned to land?”

“He didn’t say to do anything. Just that I would know when I got there.

” He coughed again, another strangled fit that Kristine wasn’t sure he’d recover from.

Once again, she almost went for help, but the fit passed.

Shame coated his features. “The truth is,” he rasped, “I wanted the plane to crash. Then it would be done. I would be free of this miserable life and my family wouldn’t have to watch me die. It would just be done.”

Along with everyone else on the plane.

“And you were okay with killing all those innocent people on the plane with you?” Andrew asked as though reading her thoughts.

Marcus closed his eyes and shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “I wasn’t okay with it.”

Kristine suppressed a shudder. But he would have done it. If she and the others hadn’t been there, he might have succeeded. He was thin and looked tired—and the cough was scary—but she wouldn’t have any idea he was actually dying if he hadn’t said so. “How long have you been given?”

“They refused to give me a time. Could be a couple of days, could be a couple more weeks without treatment. I did the first two rounds of chemo, but I’m not doing any more treatments.”

She blinked. “Not that it’s any of my business, but may I ask why not?”

“The doctors say the cancer is too far advanced and I’d only be prolonging my life for a couple of months.

What’s the point in doing that? Also, my wife’s mother died a horrible death with chemo and.

..” He waved a hand. “As a child, watching her go through that left an impression. It nearly killed my wife. Left her with a horrible fear of losing someone that way again. I won’t put her through it.

” He pursed his lips. “She doesn’t know I’m terminal.

She just knows I’ve been fatigued and lost weight and was sick for a while.

..” He shuddered. “Anyway, I just wanted to leave her the money. To make her life easier when I’m gone.

I left her a note explaining everything.

I’m sure she’s read it by now.” He heaved a sigh and released a sob. “I’ve really messed up, haven’t I?”

To say the least. Kristine had so many questions but couldn’t stop the compassion and sympathy flowing through her. He’d made wrong choices for the right reasons, she supposed.

Not that it mattered in the legal sense. Assuming he was being truthful about his medical condition, he’d spend the rest of his limited days behind bars, then cuffed to a hospital bed. His poor family.

Andrew and Nathan exchanged a look. They felt for the guy, too, but needed to get the rest of the story from him.

She slid a tissue box toward him, and he mopped up his face, getting control of the crying. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for it all.”

A little too late, but she kept that thought to herself.

“We need to know about the man who hired you,” Nathan said. “Can you think of anything about him that stood out? A tattoo? The way he spoke? An accent, any kind of physical mark above the mask?”