Page 42 of Final Approach (Lake City Heroes #4)

TWENTY-TWO

The Life Flight ride to get Andrew to the hospital had been intense, with paramedics working to patch him up and raise his body temperature.

Now, he was ensconced in a room, out of any immediate danger to his life.

The nurse said she didn’t expect him to wake anytime soon thanks to the drugs, so Kristine made her way to Emily’s room, where she found her with their aunt. “Hey, sis. Hey, Aunt Wendy.”

Emily smiled. “Hey. What’s up? You look ... rough.”

“Ha. Thanks. It’s been a day.”

“Tell me about it?”

Kristine gave her an abbreviated version, ending with Andrew’s trip to the hospital.

Her aunt blinked. “Goodness, that sounds terrifying.”

“It was.” Just the condensed version was enough to make her sister pale, which was why she’d left out the more horrifying details.

“Wait,” Emily said, “he’s hurt?”

“Yes, but he’s going to be okay.” Thank you , God.

“You like him a lot, don’t you?” Emily asked.

Kristine’s heart pounded an extra beat. “Yes. I like him an awful lot.”

“Then you need to be with him. Make sure you’re there when he wakes up.”

“I’ll go back in a minute. Is Dad here?”

Her sister frowned. Then scowled. “No. I don’t know where he is. He’s insisting I come live with him after I’m discharged, but I just can’t do it, Kris. I won’t.”

“I’ve already offered to have her come stay with me,” Aunt Wendy said. “But don’t tell your father yet. Just agree with him for the moment. We’ll work out the details later.”

Kristine eyed her aunt. It wasn’t often she showed her dislike for the man. “I agree,” she said. “Don’t say anything to him yet.”

Emily’s frown deepened. “All right. I’ll play along, but I don’t like it.”

“I just think it’s best,” Aunt Wendy said. “He’s been in a strange mood ever since your accident. I know he’s worried, but he’s still all broody and moody.”

He really was.

“Okay, well, text me if he shows up.” His lack of communication lately was ... weird. Kristine wasn’t really interested in talking to him, but at the same time, she wanted to know where he was and what he was doing.

“Go,” Emily said. “Aunt Wendy is here. I’ll be fine.”

So, Kristine went and found Andrew still sleeping.

She sat by his bed and opened the picture app on her phone to read her mother’s letter, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

She opened it and slipped into the hallway to find Hank.

Everyone else had gone back to their respective jobs with strict orders for her to text when Andrew was awake.

“Hey,” she said. “Andrew’s still sleeping. What’s up?”

“How is he?”

“He’s okay. He passed out at the scene from blood loss and everything else, but he’s surprisingly really good. Just needs some time and rest to regain his strength.”

“Good. I’m glad. He and I’ve had some crazy times together.”

“Yeah, he told me about some of them.”

“I’m glad he can talk about that with you.”

“I am too.”

He scrunched his beanie hat in his hands and pulled in a deep breath, then let it out. “Anyway, I just came by to tell Andrew thanks for everything.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe the guy was after Andrew and the gang has no idea where I am. It’s kind of mind-blowing.”

“No kidding. So what will you do now?”

“They want me to go back under.”

“How are you going to explain your disappearing act?”

“I’ll leave that to the bigwigs, but they’ll come up with something airtight.”

The door opened and Andrew stood there, fully dressed although a bit pale. “Ready to go?”

“You can go back to bed, dude,” Hank said. “I’ll come in there and talk to you.”

Andrew hesitated, then nodded. “I wouldn’t mind at least sitting down.”

Once they were all comfortable with Andrew back on the bed, Hank in the window seat, and Kristine in the chair, she sent a text to the others that Andrew was up. And dressed.

Hank leaned in, hands clasped between his knees. “It was you he was after all along.”

“Yep. We figured that out the hard way, but at least we now know.” He rubbed his eyes. “How’d you know where to find me? I don’t think anyone’s answered that one yet.”

Hank motioned to Kristine. “She figured it out. Found the plate that matched the car. Nathan did a little research and came up with an Isaac Mason. As soon as he said that name, I knew who had you. From there, we tracked Tyler Mason to his property in the mountains. He and Isaac were close. Ty graduated college, had a good job, but when he lost Isaac, it changed him.”

“So, he hunted me down to get his revenge.”

Hank nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”

“It’s unbelievable, the timing on everything. All of the attacks ... we thought those were directed at you. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, it would have been pretty clear who he was after.”

“But why shoot at you at Brown’s house?” Kristine asked. “I don’t see him as being a lousy shot. He missed on purpose?”

“Well, that’s the weird thing. He said that wasn’t him.”

“Not him?” She frowned. “Who else could it be?”

“I don’t know. I’d say he was lying, but he admitted to everything else. Why lie about that?”

“Weird. Maybe he just wanted to mess with your head.”

Andrew looked doubtful but shrugged, then winced. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well, he’s not going to hurt anyone ever again,” she said. “Let’s be thankful for that.” And she was, but it still bothered her.

“Amen,” he whispered.

With her mother’s letter on the phone burning a hole in her hand, Kristine couldn’t stand it any longer. She rose. “I’ll give you guys time to say your goodbyes while I take care of something.”

Andrew frowned at her. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, sure.” She waved her phone at him. “Just need to look at something.”

“Okay.”

She stepped out of the room and debated whether this was the best place to read the letter but honestly didn’t want to wait any longer.

Reading it in the privacy of her home wasn’t an option if she wanted to do it anytime soon.

She made her way to the waiting room on Emily’s floor and found a seat in the corner.

She opened the letter and started reading.

Dear Greg,

The fight last night was the last straw.

We can’t keep on this way. We’re a terrible example to the kids of what marriage should be and we need to get help.

Or we need to go our separate ways. Like I told you last month, I’ve already talked to a divorce attorney, but don’t want to take that route if you’ll agree to counseling.

I’m still waiting for you to agree. I won’t wait much longer.

Please be prepared to talk when I get back from today’s flight.

Kristine said some really ugly things to me and I know she will regret them once she calms down.

Please tell her that I understand. I forgive her.

All is well. Tell her that I didn’t take this flight because of what she said.

I’m taking it because you and I need the distance.

That being said, please let her know I expect her to apologize when I get back.

And give her the letter I left her. I couldn’t leave without at least reaching out to her.

Kristine gasped. Why had her father never told her about this last message from her mother? And what letter had her mother left? A slow rage started to build and she sucked it back. Not yet. She had to finish reading.

I’m so concerned about this continued controlling behavior you’re exhibiting.

Right , Mom?

We’ve talked about this. It was there when we got married, but over the past few years, it’s really gotten, ironically enough, out of control.

No one can live up to your expectations and you’re suffocating the life out of me and our kids.

It’s got to stop. Either get help—and I’ll go with you—or we’re done.

I hate to leave town on this note. Part of me thinks it’s not fair, but talking to your face isn’t getting results, so I’m trying this way.

Please, let’s figure out a plan to work on this together.

You have three days to think about it. Tell your kids you love them and mean it. Tell them I love them too. I do love you, Greg, I just can’t live this way any longer. And won’t.

Xoxo, Rachel

Tears dripped off her chin and she read the message again.

Over and over. Especially the part about her mother not taking that flight because of what Kristine had said.

All these years, she’d blamed herself for her mother going on that flight she hadn’t been scheduled to take, the one she’d volunteered for.

Because her parents needed distance. And her father knew how she blamed herself and said nothing. He knew!

Because it was easier to control someone who blamed themself for killing your loved one.

“Unbelievable.” Rage washed over her like a tsunami.

After the sixth read through, she tucked the phone into her back pocket, swiped her hands across her face, and gathered her composure. Her aunt was with Emily. She had no idea where her father was, and she had to calm down before she confronted him with this.

And she had her mother’s boxes to go through. She needed to do that ASAP because there was no telling what else she might find in one of them. Hopefully the missing letter. She texted the group and let them know she was headed home and bolted from the hospital.