The pain in her voice cut deep. Cory spread his hands helplessly. "I can't. The FBI has taken over. I have no authority in their investigation."
"No authority?" Martha's face flushed darker. "This is our town. Our people. MedFlight is behind this—we all know it—and you're telling me you can't do anything?"
"The federal government?—"
"Who cares about the government." The shout from proper Martha shocked them all. "They're destroying everythingwe've built, and for what? So some corporation can make more money?"
Bill put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Martha..."
She shrugged him off, tears starting to flow. "I've given my whole life to helping people. We all have. And now Izzy's being blamed for something she didn't do, and you're telling me the law can't help?"
"We're going to figure this out," Izzy said quietly.
Martha turned to her, fierce love replacing anger. "You bet we are. Whatever you need—money, lawyers, someone to break kneecaps—Bill and I are here."
"Martha." Bill protested.
"What? I'm old. What are they gonna do, give me life? I've only got a few years left anyway."
Izzy smiled. "No kneecap breaking. But thank you."
Martha pulled her into a hug. "You're family, girl. Mountain Angel takes care of its own. We'll get through this."
After extracting promises to call if they needed anything—legal or otherwise—Martha and Bill left. The hangar felt even quieter in their wake.
Izzy stood by the window, staring out at the overcast sky. Then, so quietly Cory almost missed it, she began to speak.
"I don't know if You're listening. Haven't talked to You in a while." Her voice was rough, uncertain. "But my baby needs me. Needs me to solve this, to come home. I can't do it alone anymore. Please... help us find the truth. Help me get home to her."
The simple, desperate mother's prayer hung in the air. Cory moved to stand beside her, not touching, just present.
Her phone buzzed, shattering the moment.
Zara's text appeared in all caps:
FIRE AT MOUNTAIN ANGEL HANGAR
Before either could process, the distant wail of sirens cut through the morning air. Multiple sirens, getting louder.
"No," Izzy breathed. "No, no, no?—"
They were already moving, grabbing jackets, heading for the door. The sirens screamed closer, and through the window, Cory could see smoke beginning to rise in the distance.
Someone had just destroyed Mountain Angel's last chance at survival.
And they both knew this was no accident.
38
"Chief Fraser,we've got a situation at the airport." Graceline's voice crackled through Cory's phone. "Jim Hensley was prepping for his morning flight, smelled smoke coming from the Mountain Angel hangar."
Cory was already following Izzy out the hangar’s man door. "Fire department?"
"En route. Jim says it's not fully engaged—lots of smoke but no visible flames. Looks like it's been smoldering for a while."
Beside him, Izzy had gone rigid. "The maintenance records. Everything that could clear me?—"
The second they rounded the corner to Mountain Angel’s row, the smoke was obvious. The Mountain Angel hangar sat shrouded in gray smoke seeping from every gap and vent, like the building was slowly exhaling death. No dramatic flames, no Hollywood explosion—just the insidious creep of smoke that spoke of hours of slow burning.
