“Seth Wingate,” Cam growled. “He called the office the day before the flight to verify that Bailey was going to Denver. He might have enough juice for a judge to do him a favor by delaying a court order, though I don’t know what that would accomplish in the long run, unless he needed time to get his hands on the security tape and destroy it, or something.”
“That’s what your secretary kept insisting. He definitely behaved suspiciously, but that’s also stupid behavior. Suspicions are one thing, proof is another. So far, we don’t have any proof at all, just an anomaly in the fueling records.”
“We’ve already figured that out. Unless the security tapes caught him fooling around with the plane, all the evidence is at the crash site, and retrieving it would be a bitch. The wind’s brutal up there, there’s no way for a chopper to do even a one-skid touchdown. The only way up is on foot.”
“I didn’t know Seth would even know how to sabotage the fuel tank that way,” Bailey said. “He has a vicious temper and despises me, but I never thought he’d try to physically harm me. The last time I talked to him he threatened to kill me, but”—she bit her lip, troubled—“I didn’t believe him. More fool me.”
“The plastic bag in the fuel tank is low tech,” Cam said. “Doesn’t take a lot of skill to do that.”
“That doesn’t, particularly,” agreed MaGuire. “The transponder and the radio, though—he knows his way around a plane a lot better than you think.”
Cam slowly went stiff, his gray eyes turning wintry. “What? What about the transponder?” Bailey gave him a searching look. His voice had changed, to something dark and menacing.
MaGuire turned back to the map. “Right here,” he said, pointing, “just east of Walla Walla, is where you lost your transponder signal. Fifteen minutes later, an FSS picked up a garbled distress transmission, then you dropped off the radar and were gone. If he sabotaged those, too, he was very thorough. He didn’t want the crash site found—or he wanted to delay finding the site until all forensic evidence had eroded.”
Cam stood very still, studying the map. “Son of a bitch,” he said softly.
“An opinion everyone seems to have of him. I hate to say this, but he may get away with it.” MaGuire sighed. “My biggest worry right now isn’t locating the crash site, but your safety, Mrs. Wingate.”
“Bailey’s with me,” said Cam, without looking around. “I’ll take care of her.”
Bailey grimaced at the caveman attitude and told MaGuire, “I intend to let Seth know that we know he tried to kill me, even though we can’t prove it, but that we’ve also told an unspecified someone else, so if he tries again he’ll be at the top of the list of suspects. I can’t think of anything else we can do.”
“I can,” said Cam, his eyes still cold. “MaGuire, any way we can leave for Seattle right away? I want to get this handled now.”
MaGuire’s expression was curious, but all he said was “You sure can.”
THEY LANDED IN Seattle about eight that night, though Bailey had always wondered how you could call it “night” when the sun wouldn’t set for over another hour. Her reserves of strength were still depleted and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep, but she wanted that bed to have Cam in it, and she hadn’t been able to have more than a few words with him since he’d gone so cold and quiet when MaGuire told him all Seth had done.
In a way, that was all right. She was having some cold and quiet moments herself. For Seth to try to kill her, well, it wasn’t okay, but Seth was her burden to bear and it enraged her that he’d so cavalierly counted Cam’s life as of no consequence. Whether or not Cam died, too, simply hadn’t mattered to him.
She was going back to a changed world. She couldn’t just resume her old life as if nothing had happened. Regardless of the agreement she’d made with Jim, she couldn’t deal with Seth any longer. She’d have to be stupid to risk her life and Cam’s life because of an agreement she’d made with someone who was now dead. Someone else would have to manage the trust funds, perhaps one of the officers where Jim had banked. She was adamantly opposed to signing control over to Seth, because she didn’t believe he should be rewarded after what he’d tried to do, but someone else could have the hassle.
They had flown back to Seattle in a plane much the same size as the poor Skylane. Without hesitation, Cam had slid into the copilot’s seat, not even thinking of sitting in back with her, which had made her roll her eyes and smile because that’s what you got with a pilot. Most of them lived and breathed flying, to the point where they were often oblivious to everything else. MaGuire sat in the back with her, and something in his expression told her he’d rather have been in the copilot’s seat but Cam had been faster.
“He’s desperate,” she said, amused. “He hasn’t had his hands on the controls in six days.”
“But it’s my charter,” he said, just a tad sulky in tone. Then he shrugged and gave her a faintly sheepish smile. “I guess I should have expected it, and been faster. Most pilots I know would rather fly than eat.”
She tried to be calm as they neared Seattle, but she was returning to so many changes she had trouble grasping them all, and as always change made her uneasy. She normally didn’t make a major decision until she had thought about it, researched it, prepared for it. If anything in her life changed, she wanted to control the way it happened. Abruptly she had no control, and virtually everything had changed: she would be moving out of that enormous house as fast as she possibly could, and she didn’t care what Seth and Tamzin did with it. She refused to deal with them any longer, which meant she had to find another job.