Page 79 of One Last Promise

“You need to come in so you can formally sort this out with a lawyer?—”

“You don’t understand!”

“Tillie—”

And then, against the backdrop of Roz’s gasps, one bad decision led to the next and then the next, and suddenlyTillie was out in the hallway, Flynn in the room behind her on the floor—not dead, and probably not unconscious, but definitely incapacitated.

Leaving Tillie to run, and run, and run.

CHAPTER 8

Distracted driving only got people killed. And distracted flying?—

Never. Moose had been there, done that, and right now, he needed his entire focus on holding the bird steady as Axel worked to pluck a family out of the swollen Skilak River.

Some three miles upstream, the dam made of glacial boulders had broken free in the freezing autumn rain, and the river rushed through, overflowing banks, uprooting houses from their foundations, and sweeping away vehicles. All along the shoreline, families evacuated houses that perched on the precipice of the shoreline. They’d already rescued one family from their rooftop after a tributary swept over their property and surrounded the house in glacial ice and debris.

Now the swollen, raging waters had swept a bridge from its moorings, taking a caravan filled with a family—mom, dad, two children under the age of ten—along with it. It lay on its side, half submerged, caught on the debris of the bridge, the family clinging to the vehicle while the frigid, churning, slate-graywater swept over it.

“Ten feet from the car. Almost there.” Shep’s voice, giving Moose the play-by-play as Axel went down on the line, accompanied by the basket. The wind from the storm had died, so the chopper wasn’t pitching, but if the basket caught in the rapids, it would jerk the bird. Moose kept his eyes on the instruments, the terrain in front of him, listening, seeing the rescue in his mind’s eye.

“He’s at the car,” Shep said.

“Axel, don’t you dare unclip from the line.” Boo’s voice, as the EMT leaned over the chopper door, watching.

Good try, Boo, but Axel had his own mind, although yes, he knew safety protocol. And since he’d nearly drowned in a sinking charter boat this summer, he’d been markedly safer.

Somewhat.

Okay, maybe not.

In a moment, Axel’s voice came through the radio. “I’ve got the kids in the basket and jackets on the parents. I’m coming up with the basket.”

Which meant the snarl in Moose’s chest could ease now, just a little. But the fight with Tillie still sat in the back of his brain, and three hours later, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still in danger.

Ofcourseshe was in danger. Not only because of her words—“Because I can destroy it all”—but he’d met Rigger. The man might clean up well, but Moose knew the substance of what lurked under that semi-clean-cut demeanor. His leg still burned with the knife wound along his thigh.

The man had something on Tillie, some reason he couldn’t let go and?—

“Moose, you’re drifting!” This from London, who looked over at him.

He glanced at the directional gyros and moved the chopper back into position. Axel swung on the basket line,along with the kids.

“Hey, not on a joyride here, Cap,” Axel said.

Moose said nothing, just tightened his jaw.Focus. He could do nothing for Tillie right now except pray. Pray and hope she did what he’d asked.

His chest hurt with the truth he couldn’t face.

Shep drew Axel aboard, and Boo pulled the kids out, wrapped them in blankets, and strapped them into seats as Shep sent the basket back out, Axel still affixed to the hoist.

“Ten degrees to the south, Moose,” Shep said, and Moose corrected.

London looked out the window. “You’re spot on. Hold here.”

Easier said than done, but he made the tiny adjustments with the cyclic to keep it in place, and Axel loaded the parents onto the basket.

“We’re in. Bring us up!” Axel to Shep, and he winched up the line.

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