Her father’s voice walked into her head.“Stay alert,stay alive.”
Whatever,Detective Williams.
Then she put her head back and closed her eyes.Sorry,Zoey.She hadn’t sent the email yet, but surely this was the right answer.
Mack taxied the plane out to the tarmac, and she listened as he called in to the tower. Moments later, they lifted off, her stomach dropping a little. But as they arched out over the town, headed southeast, she opened her eyes to watch.
A muddy and frozen river ran south from the western side of the small town, the houses and cars resembling Matchbox toys. She made out the Midnight Sun Saloon, as well as the Gold Nugget Inn, and then the plane veered east to avoid the darkening clouds to the west, and the landscape turned a mix of green pine jutting from a blanket of white. In the distance, humpback mountains rose, gray-green and ominous.
They passed tiny lakes, like dimples in the earth, some of them with cabins perched on the shore. A settlement caught her eye—a cluster of buildings carved out of the forest—with cleared land around it, situated next to a frozen lake. Smaller houses circled a larger building in the center, and a massive barn on one end rose, twice the size of the main building.
Looked almost like a small town, but no roads led to it.
They flew over it, and then Mack banked south and followed a wide river, tumbling even in the extreme cold.
“Good luck toyou and your music.”Yeah. Time to start therapy, probably.
Movement next to her tore her attention from the scenery, and she froze as Thornwood unbuckled his seat belt.
What—?
Then he leaned forward. Her breath stopped as he put a Glock 19 to Mack’s head. The ridiculous fleeting thought that her dad might be a little proud that she knew that detail left her when Thornwood growled, “Land the plane.”
What—what—?
She gasped, and Thornwood shot her a look that made her grab the arms of her seat.
Cold, dark eyes speared through her.
“What are you doing?” Wilder turned in his seat, and Thornwood pointed the gun at him. He recoiled. “Don’t shoot!”
“Land the plane,” Thornwood growled again. “There, on the riverbed.”
She looked down and spotted a wide shoreline, pebbled and frozen. There?
“I’m not landing,” Mack said.
“Suit yourself.”
She screamed—who cared about the damage to her voice—as Thornwood grabbed a long hunting knife from his duffel.
“Stop!” She nearly lunged at him.
He shoved the knife right through the seat into Mack’s back.
Mack shouted, a cry of pain, and—
No,no—
The plane dipped in the air.
“What are you doing!” she shouted at Thornwood. “We’re going to crash!”
“Land the plane!” Thornwood pointed his gun again at Wilder. “Or your passengers die.”
She bit back another scream as the plane banked, hard. Mack seemed to be fighting for control, the plane spiraling.
Wilder clawed at the yoke. “Mack, give me the controls!”
