“Janet, I’ve delivered the scientists to their cabin, and I’m heading back to base.”
“Can you swing by the Hallsten lodge to pick up that interior decorator? Tim was meant to collect her, but she contacted us to say she wanted to spend longer at the lodge. He’s out on his last flight with another group of tourists.”
“Sure, I have enough fuel. Tell her I can be there in forty-five minutes,” Renee said.
She took off, enjoying being the sole passenger for a change. Her mind drifted to Calian, the twins Dakota and Kansas and the youngest brother, Matto. Somehow, she’d found herself in a relationship. At least it seemed that way to her. The brothers made sure she ate, they made certain she slept, and they worried about her safety, even though they’d initially come to Churchill for more nefarious purposes. She hoped they believed her about Hunter. She hadn’t lied.
As she flew over a ridge, wind buffeted her chopper. Renee frowned at the sullen sky—a strange gray that promised snow. She spotted the lodge through the gloom and hoped Maggie, the woman she’d dropped earlier, was ready to leave. Renee hated abrupt weather changes.
During her approach, Renee scanned the area around the lodge, searching for Maggie’s scarlet coat. Drat the woman. She’d drag her feet and expect Renee to lug her bags of samples to the chopper.
Renee flew closer, still not seeing the interior decorator. The woman must’ve heard the chopper. Renee skimmed over the top of the clump of trees and made the approach to the landing pad. Her chopper swayed and fought her control more than normal in the gusty wind.
Splat. Splat. Splat.
Something slammed into the side of her chopper, close to her head.
Renee cursed. Checked her instruments. Everything was normal.
Splat. Splat. Splat.
She was taking fire!
Instinct had Renee lifting her helicopter in a rapid climb. More gunfire. Her bird hovered, unresponsive to her controls. The helicopter went into a spin. Renee gripped her controls.Control the spin. Bullets bombarded the cab.
“Come on. Come on!”
The copter continued to spin, but she cleared the ridge and increased the distance between her and the shooter. For a few minutes, she thought she might make it, keep her chopper in the sky. But the wind was stronger here. It caught her bird, flung her right, and she dropped. Her tail rotor failed to respond.
Fuel.
Goddammit. The sharp tang filled her nostrils.
Renee fought to remain airborne, to halt the spin.
Another gust of wind flung her chopper left.
The skids whacked against a tree. Damn, she was too low. Her copter spun again. Hit a tree. A branch shoved against her side. The entire helicopter shuddered away from the tree. Alarms sounded. The ground was close. Too close.
Renee kept fighting even though she knew it was a lost cause.
Her helicopter smashed into a bank of snow. Her head thumped against the back of her seat and snapped forward to hit the window. Then everything went black.
10 – Where Is Renee?
Matto stalked toward the heliport, eagerness giving his steps a spring, despite the wail of the wind and the gathering darkness.Renee. He’d thought about her all day, and he suspected she lingered on his brothers’ minds too since none of them had gotten through as much of their planning as they’d intended. He jogged up the three front steps and burst through the doorway of the office.
Immediately, the back of his neck prickled. His wolf, which had become more active since Calian had forced them into daily runs, stilled then rumbled a growl. The warning sound must’ve bled free because the two men in a huddle with the receptionist sprang around. One was a pilot. Tim, the Australian, from memory. The other was an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a close-trimmed beard.
“Where’s Renee?”
The three shared a quick glance.
“She is still out on a run,” the receptionist said.
Something in her voice, the sliver of fear, of concern bled through enough for his wolf to growl again.
“The truth this time,” Matto demanded. “Where is Renee?”
