Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Two vehicles sat outside Kyle Mercer’s rented mansion, a Buick and a newer truck. Small dots of red were visible leading around the side of the home, the rain splattering and spreading them. Ace swallowed, shoving panic away. “This way.”
He ran around the house with Christian at his heels, reaching the rear of the home near the river. The house was dark and quiet behind them. Tika whined, his nose to the ground.
That couldn’t be May’s blood. It just couldn’t be. Ace stared at the empty dock. The boat that came with Kyle’s rental house was gone. Shit. “There are no good reasons to take that boat out in this storm.”
Christian nodded. “Agreed.” Fury swirled in his green and black eyes.
Ace turned, scanning the area. Then he started to run, hitting rocky bank and going past the quiet houses on stilts.
He ran over the slick dock to reach the pitching Cessna Caravan.
Torrington should’ve secured her inside the boathouse.
Ace jumped on the float and then careened into the pilot’s seat.
Christian hefted himself into the other seat and tossed Tika into the back. “Brock can be here in fifteen minutes. He can pilot this thing.”
“There’s no time,” Ace said, his brain clicking facts into place. “May is gone, and so is the boat. It’s storming, and Kyle’s making some kind of move.” Maybe Kyle thought he could get away with it because there was another killer out there.
Ace flipped on the master switch and ran through the startup sequence. His hands moved automatically, muscle memory taking over as something old and cold tried to crawl up his spine. He forced it down.
This wasn’t the ocean, and he wasn’t spinning or falling. It was a wide river and a controlled takeoff. He had to get to May. Right now.
He engaged the starter and watched the Ng rise.
At the proper percentage, he brought in fuel with the condition lever.
The PT6 spooled with a rising whine, ITT climbing before settling as the engine stabilized into a steady, controlled growl.
The vibration came through the floats and into his bones, causing his breath to freeze in his chest.
Christian shut his door. “All right, brother, but you know I’m no pilot.”
“I know.” Ace eased the throttle forward and nudged them away from the dock. The floats skimmed over the water as he taxied toward the center channel.
The river stretched ahead of them, broad and open.
Ace pushed the throttle. Sweat slicked his hand, and he wiped it on his damp jeans.
The engine roared louder, competing with the angry rain.
The floats slapped rhythmically against the surface as speed built, and spray fanned out along both sides. The nose lifted slightly.
“Come on,” Ace muttered. The drag lessened and the slapping turned into a smooth hiss as they gained lift. The floats skimmed once more and then they broke free of the river cleanly, climbing through the rain.
“There,” Christian said.
Ace followed his gaze and locked onto movement upriver. He banked left and dropped their altitude to look closer. An aluminum river sled was already cutting upstream, its jet throwing a rooster tail of white spray behind it as it powered into the current.
He flew closer to see better.
Two men stood in it. Kyle manned the center console, one hand on the throttle, his features unmistakable even through the rain. Peter stood near the stern with his arm extended, a gun aimed straight down.
At May.
Ace’s stomach dropped hard.
She sat on the rear bench seat, soaked, wrists bound in front of her, a bandage wrapped tight around her head, covering her mouth. Even from the air, he could see her struggling with small furious movements as she tried to twist free.
At her feet, sprawled across the aluminum deck, was a body. Dark red streaked toward the scuppers and washed thin in the rain before the river carried it away.
“Jesus,” Christian breathed.
Peter kept the gun trained on her while glancing up at the plane overhead. Kyle shoved the throttle harder, and the boat surged faster into the wide, powerful river. He turned and shouted, his face red.
Stumbling, Peter moved toward Kyle and handed him the gun before taking over the throttle.
Kyle moved back toward May, his steps unsteady in the pitching boat, and pointed the gun at her head.
Rage surged up so hard Ace tasted copper.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Christian warned.
“I won’t,” Ace said, though every instinct screamed to dive. He banked wide instead, circling once to get a better angle. The boat was heading upriver, not down. Toward deeper bends and narrower channels where tree cover would make it harder to track from the air.
“We need to be quick,” Christian said.
“Yes.” Ace dropped lower.
The plane skimmed above the river now, low enough that the prop wash rippled the water beneath them.
He wasn’t thinking about fear or the crash anymore.
May was the only thing that mattered. “Christian, call Brock. Tell him to get to the next big bend. The one with the old logging dock. Get Dr. Patterson there.”
Christian already had his phone out. “On it.”
Ace lined up ahead of the boat and dipped even lower, forcing Kyle to look up again.
The boat swerved as Peter adjusted course.
May twisted, trying to sit up. Kyle shoved her back down hard. He fired toward them, not coming close.
Ace’s vision tunneled. He pulled the nose up just enough to avoid the treetops and banked again, positioning himself ahead of them.
His hands shook and he steadied himself.
Thoughts of his crash tried to infiltrate his mind, but he shoved them away.
Not now. The river narrowed around the next bend.
Sandbars rose pale beneath the surface in places.
If Kyle didn’t know the channel well, he’d have to slow.
“Secure your belt,” Ace ordered his brother.
Below, Peter was shouting at Kyle now. Peter jerked the tiller, trying to push through the faster current.
May’s head turned upward. For a split second, their eyes met. Ace’s chest tightened so hard it almost hurt. He shoved the throttle forward and dropped even lower, the plane roaring over the river and casting a long shadow across the water.
Ace’s training ticked through his head fast and sure. “Hold on, Christian.”
He dropped fast.
The second May caught sight of Ace flying the plane above them, she started to fight harder.
“Stop.” Kyle set his stance, barely keeping his balance on the pitching boat. Rain coated him, plastering his clothes to his body. “I’ll shoot you in front of him,” he yelled.
She stopped moving. Her vision blurred for a second.
Ace banked hard, the plane tilting in a tight arc that forced the boat’s wake sideways. The engine roared again as he swung back around.
Peter shouted something she couldn’t hear, shoving the throttle down.
The boat lurched faster.
May forced herself upright, bracing her back against the metal side.
The bandage around her mouth muffled her scream, but she didn’t care.
She needed them looking at her. Distracted.
The river narrowed ahead around a sweeping bend.
Sandbars showed pale under the water’s surface. If they hit one at this speed—
The boat bounced hard. Jack’s body rolled on the bottom.
Peter lost his footing, his arms flying up, and fell.
“Damn it,” Kyle yelled, yanking him up and shoving the gun into his hand. “Watch her.” He moved up to take control of the boat.
Peter grabbed for the side to steady himself.
May drove her shoulder into Peter’s thigh and shoved with everything she had left. His weight was forward, his balance already compromised by the turn. Her bound hands slammed into his hip as she threw her whole body sideways.
Peter’s eyes went wide, and he dropped the gun.
Then he tipped. One boot slid on the wet aluminum. He went over the side of the boat with a splash and a shout.
May fell sideways.
Kyle twisted around at the sound. The boat veered as the tiller jerked in his hand. Then he pivoted, ducking and grabbing the gun.
May lunged again, aiming for his midsection to unbalance him. She slipped and fell back.
The plane roared past, so low it felt like it would clip the treetops.
Kyle released the throttle just long enough to point the gun up to fire. The shot cracked over the water.
May flinched.
Kyle snarled and fired again.
The boat drifted sideways as the engine sputtered with no one working the throttle. May pushed herself upright again, using her shoulder to slam into Kyle’s arm as he aimed upward.
The shot went wild.
“Sit down!” he shouted, grabbing her by the collar of her lab coat.
She bit down hard on the bandage and drove her knee up. It caught him in the thigh, not where she wanted, but enough to make him curse and stagger.
The plane climbed higher, then banked in a wide arc and came downriver ahead of them. Ace was landing.
May’s pulse pounded in her ears.
“You think he can help you?” Kyle hissed, grabbing her hair and yanking her back toward the stern. “He’s not going to get here in time.”
The floats hit the river ahead with a heavy slap. Ace throttled back and turned, positioning the plane across the narrowest part of the channel, blocking the bend. The plane rolled rapidly toward them.
May twisted, trying to pull away from Kyle’s grip.
He shoved her down with one hand and pointed the gun at her with the other. “Don’t,” he warned.
She went still.
The plane door swung open. Ace was out and moving before the floats had fully settled. He jumped from the float to the boat, landing on the stern.
Christian’s voice carried faintly from the cockpit, but May couldn’t make out the words.
Kyle turned and fired.
The shot cracked across the water.
Ace didn’t slow. He leaped forward and caught Kyle’s wrist mid-aim. The gun went off again, the shot blasting toward the plane. Christian ducked, before lifting back up, fury on his face.
Ace and Kyle crashed into each other in the cramped stern, metal rattling under their weight. May edged away, trying to get clear. Ace drove his shoulder into Kyle’s chest and slammed him into the side. The gun clattered against metal as Kyle kept his grip on the weapon.
Kyle jerked his arm free and swung. The punch landed against Ace’s jaw with a dull crack. Ace’s head snapped sideways. He drove his elbow into Kyle’s ribs and followed with a hard right that caught Kyle across the cheek.
The boat rocked violently, drifting closer to the plane’s float.
Kyle brought the gun up again. Ace grabbed his wrist with both hands and twisted. The gun fired once more. Ace chopped his hand down, and Kyle dropped the gun, which skidded across the wet floor.
May lunged for it.
Kyle kicked her in the shoulder, sending her slamming back against the side. Pain blasted down her arm.
Rage cascaded across Ace’s face. He drove his knee into Kyle’s midsection and followed with a headbutt that split Kyle’s lip open.
Kyle reeled backward and nearly fell overboard. Ace grabbed him by the front of his red shirt and slammed him down onto the aluminum floor. The boat tipped dangerously. He stumbled to his feet.
Ace caught Kyle with an uppercut that threw the senator into the side. Kyle’s eyes closed and he slumped down, partially landing on Jack’s body. Out cold.
Ace moved toward May, his eyes a blinding green in the rain. “You okay?”
She nodded, tears streaming down her face and mixing with river spray.
He gingerly unwrapped the bandage around her head before removing the one binding her wrists, digging his fingers into the wet mess.
“Ace,” she breathed.
He pulled her into him with one arm, crushing her against his chest for a single, fierce second. “You’re okay, Doc. I’ve got you.”
She shivered against him. He’d actually flown to save her. She snuggled in, wrapping both hands around his waist and feeling his solid form. “I know,” she whispered.
He kissed her. Hard. “I love you.”
She swallowed, the rain pounding around them, her heart full. “I love you.”
Ace Osprey had come for her.