Pippa's Rescue (10 page)

“Focus and you’ll be successful.” Kiara glanced over her shoulder. “We need to go.”

“Do you have a magic ball?”

Kiara grinned. “Way ahead of you. It’s in the tiny pocket”—she pointed to the gray jeans—“left side.”

Skogul shoved her fingers into the band, feeling for an opening, then the marble. “Ready, then. Kisses to Harrison.” The odd tingling sensation ripped through her as she rolled through space, and it came with terror. Where would she land on Earth?

Chapter 11

Basil didn’t mind crawling from under the warm covers. However the instant image of a cold greeting from Pippa turned his stomach. Last night he’d wrongly assumed she wanted to discuss what went down in the stable. Instead, she’d helped Aidan get paperwork completed for the adoption of Titan. Later she’d gotten into a limo with banker-boy. Yep, he’d screwed up. Maybe he didn’t deserve a good woman, as he certainly didn’t know how to “emotionally support” one. Who knew words from girlfriends past would come back to haunt him?

Delaying the inevitable, he performed his usual one hundred sit-ups and equal number of push-ups, showered, and dressed using his last three pieces of clean clothes. It didn’t take long to repack his bag, ready to go at a second’s notice. He meandered toward the scent of coffee, mentally prepared to shovel shit or beg for forgiveness, whichever came first.

Mattie stood in front of the coffeemaker, eyes closed, deeply inhaling the bitter brew. She had a little wheeze. He’d suggest she let Doc check her for asthma before her condition worsened.

Steam came from her cup of coffee as she placed it on the counter. “Want some hearty, thick java?”

His stomach, already soured, rolled at the thought. “Smells great, but I think I’ll start with water.”

He opened the stainless fridge and pulled out a bottle. She stared at him as if she knew he’d slept with her adopted daughter and then proceeded to destroy the tiny amount of trust he’d garnered.

“I wondered when you’d be up.”

Eight o’clock was late on the ranch and for him, but he needed the shut-eye. He’d spent the early morning hours listening for Pippa to return from her date. She was either as stealthy as a Special Ops member or she hadn’t come home. His mind kept replaying her words—
I don’t let guys stay overnight—
meaning when she had sex at the guy’s place. Had she last night? Part of him refused to believe she’d let banker-boy mount her, while the other part…

He unscrewed the cap and washed down the guilt stuck in his craw. A couple swallows of water gave him time to come up with an answer. “I’ve the late shift today, which makes me happy.” He shook the bottle. “No scooping in stable two.”

She chuckled and removed a skillet from the overhead rack, placing it on the stovetop. “Want some eggs?”

“Sure.” He drained the water. “Where’s Pippa?”

“Took a trip.” She turned and retrieved breakfast fixings from the fridge. Her mind wasn’t on the task; several layers of bacon and eggs were piled onto the hot skillet. Mattie jumped as a bacon splatter hit her. What was weighing on her mind? She flipped the bacon and then the eggs, until finally she slid the jumbled mess onto a plate. The bacon scent was appetizing, although the limply cooked strips looked unappealing.

He glanced at her. Her eyes twinkled. Had she resolved her internal contemplation?

“Did she go to get a horse?” he asked with a suggestive voice. He wrapped his fingers around a fork, snagged a blob and took a bite.

Mattie stared at him, her piercing sky-blues magnified due to the readers. A lie detector test had made him less nervous. Leaning her elbows on the bar, she propped up her round face, folding the wrinkles and tightening her lips. “Why are you looking for David?”

The truth would be easier, but would she put up barriers? “I was a member of his squad. We’re all concerned for him. I especially want to find him because I think he knows of the whereabouts of my friend, Harrison Lombard.”

“How long has your friend been missing?”

“Wilson vanished and a couple of weeks later Harry disappeared.” Appetite lost, he dropped the fork. The silver utensil clanked on the plate.

“And you think the two men leaving about the same time are related?”

She pieced the information together so fast he should start calling her Quicksilver. “Mattie, you’re a wily one.”

Her penciled-in eyebrows met, crinkling them into the creases on her forehead. “By wily, you mean shrewd or smart, right?”

“You know it, darlin’. So, is Pippa going to meet David?” His voice was cold, but he didn’t care. Betrayal was cold, frigid. Darkness had once again become his companion.

She folded her arms. “Why is it you can switch between a sweet southern boy to a cold distant Brit all in one breath? Which one are you, really?”

He was losing the edge he’d had a few minutes earlier. How could he pry more information regarding Pippa’s location from the clever woman without revealing more about his true goal—to kill? “My mum, from Worcester, England, met my father, a North Carolina Navy man, during a layover. But sweetheart, I’m a loveable, honorable, law-abiding southern gent through and through.”

Mattie reached underneath the island and raised a bottle filled with a soft gold-colored liquid. “Then let’s celebrate.” She added a significant amount to her coffee and dragged another cup to the counter.

Boozing before five didn’t bother him; he was a Marine after all. However, he anticipated a long drive. Instead of refusing, he’d need to encourage a bond and trust between them. He took the beverage from her hot fingers and clicked his cup to hers. “To resolution and new beginnings.”

“And love.” She smiled and took a sip.

As a Special Ops officer he’d learned how to adjust to a variety of environments, but this had to be the first where he pretended to drink alcohol midmorning with a woman reminding him of his mother. Especially whiskey that smelled heavenly. A flick of his tongue to lap a smidgen, in order for her to smell it on his breath, he rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Damn good whiskey and difficult to resist not drinking all of the contents.

He lowered the china mug. “That is very fine. Better than most Scottish brews I’ve tasted. So, where did Pippa go?”

She didn’t answer straight away, and he estimated the window of missed opportunity if Pippa had left late last night. From the telephone conversation he’d overheard she might be headed to Montana or faux Montana. When had she caught a flight? The meet-and-greet could have already gone down, and he’d lose that one viable link, the first clue to finding Harry. An image of his friend’s family crying over the loss of their son hardened Basil’s heart. He had to find Harry’s body.

“I’m a little worried.” Her voice trailed. She slid her finger through the condensation on the cup and then rubbed the water between her fingers. Finally, she moved her cup to the side, leaned forward and whispered, “I’m afraid for her. She went to meet him, but hours have passed and she hasn’t called. Pippa’s dependable. She would call if she could.”

Shock ripped through him, making his nerve endings sting. “Did she go to Montana?”

“She made me swear not to tell a soul, but I’m worried. Not that he’d hurt her, but maybe an accident happened.”

“I’ll protect her.”

“I know. The only reason I’m telling you is because you love her.” She paused, staring into his face. “She went to Brown County. As kids, they thought the hills resembled mountains in Montana. You’ll find her there and hopefully safe.”

He couldn’t deny his love for Pippa, but his heart thumped at the fear she’d been injured or had joined Harry in the heavenly choir.

****

Basil drove most of the day to arrive at the gated entrance of Brown County State Park near Nashville, Indiana. The whitewashed covered bridge was quaint. He would have appreciated it more if his heart wasn’t thrashing against his chest. Pippa had five hours’ head start. Mattie had shown him old-time photos, the kind you took to a store and had printed, but landscapes change. While she’d been looking for the pictures he’d made arrangements for someone to take over his duties in the stables.

Historically, from past missions, he knew old information wasn’t exact because terrain could be altered. He’d seen entire buildings destroyed and never rebuilt, as proven by architecture in Greece, Italy, and England. But to reassure Mattie, he stayed a few minutes to review the photos, which provided a time saving link because of the path markers in the photos guided him to Pippa’s Montana area.

After looking at the map given to him in exchange for the five-dollar fee to enter Brown County State Park, he chose to park his Jeep on the northeast side, closer to the fire tower. The elevation near the tower was one thousand feet so he could get a good visual and perhaps pinpoint where her meeting place was located. He climbed from the car and grabbed his backpack filled with water, energy bars, a pair of binoculars, and small medic-kit (in case Mattie’s fear became reality). His gut clutched; hopefully Pippa had not been harmed.

“Where are we going?” Skogul asked.

“Up.” Well maintained and clearly marked paths were easy to follow and within minutes he was climbing the tower. A dry summer created a flush of brilliant colored leaves in October. Crimson, tiger-bright oranges, and sunset yellows along with a variety of browns created a kaleidoscope of foliage—and a great veil when searching for two specific people. Despite being mid-week, sightseers filled most of the walkways. Damn, he should have asked Mattie what Pippa was wearing. Black hair, height of five-eight, tight rack—how many women fitting that description populated the park? From the various angles around the tower, at least a dozen.

“It doesn’t matter, because your destiny has been woven for centuries. What transpires now will be as it should,” Skogul said.

He put the binoculars down. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather you not talk to me if you’re not going to show yourself. It makes me nervous to have your voice in my head.”

A woman holding the hand of a small boy moved to the other side of the deck. Basil winced, wishing he hadn’t said the words aloud.

He ran down the stairs and headed toward Friend’s Trail. Beyond that was an area not recommended for hikers, but leading to the tallest hill. A circular turn and he landed at his starting point. Drawing a photo from his pocket, he couldn’t clearly ID the grotto in Mattie’s photo. He scanned the area. A glint of silver appeared among the trees due west, the very direction he needed to go. Given the amount of visitors, the probability of her shining a light in apparent Morse code was unlikely, but he had to act on instinct and it told him to hurry.

Pippa would answer her phone if she could. He was confident she’d have a few choice words to say, but she would answer the call. Not for the first time he berated himself for not going to her bedroom when he heard her door open and shut earlier. Part of him wanted to march in, demand her attention, and have a good long slow love-making session while the other chose to act like a child and ignore her. When had he become so insecure? Never before had he cared what a woman did in her spare time.

Several feet from the marked paths, he couldn’t hear hikers or rangers. He returned the phone to its holder and contemplated the choices. The trail verging right would be closer to where he viewed the flash of light. Mattie’s warning and the fear Pippa was indeed injured kept his pace and heart beating at a rapid clip.

The path less traveled, simple animal trails, led straight uphill. Every other breath he cursed her and her brother only to quickly change the mumbling to be reassurances that she was going to be fine. Gravity pulled the sun behind the hill. Darkness would arrive in less than an hour. What if they had passed, taking different routes? He stopped in the next clearing and dialed her cell again. Mattie claimed her motherly instinct never lied, and it was telling her that Pippa was in danger.

Basil hadn’t worried about a woman so much since he became the man of the family at age sixteen. His father, killed in Desert Storm, left him responsible for his mother and ten-year-old sister. It hadn’t taken him long to grow a pair. Worry equaled weakness and he refused to succumb.

Another flicker of light caught his attention. His air flow was steady, not fast, even at a brisk jog uphill. Glancing upward, he viewed the opening of a grotto. Foliage had been clipped, making the cavern visible from a longer distance. The glint or reflection came from that area. If he had any good fortune at all, he’d find Pippa and Wilson in the cave cut into the side of the fir-covered hillside.

Brush grew thicker and the incline steeper. Dried conifer needles snapped with each footstep; the farther away from visitors’ chatter, the louder breakage became. He’d enjoy the aromatic scents more if his hunch Pippa was indeed hurt didn’t cramp his gut. Why didn’t she tell him about Wilson? Why hadn’t she trusted him? For the first time he’d let his guard down, let the light of a good woman shine through his darkness, and she betrayed him.

His last mission, the one in China, gave him a clear view of his dismal future. Alone. Too many broken body parts to count and his best friend missing for half a year. The rifle butt hitting him in the mouth helped him find karma, and he awoke to his lonely reality. He resigned his commission, intending to locate Harry and then he planned to work on having a personal life—one filled with joy and happiness.

Pippa’s outraged cry brought him out of the self-flagellating introspection.

“Wait! At least sign the papers.”

“Can’t, sis. Dad would hate me for letting the weaker sex take control of the estate,” Wilson said.

“David, who do you think has had control since Dad died? Please, don’t make me lose everything because of your mistakes.” Her heartfelt plea jump-started Basil into ignoring the branches hitting his face. He rushed forward. Sharp rocks bit into his bare hands. Collected condensation or a nature inspired trickle of water running off the edge of the hill made the footholds unsteady. Unwilling to let the slick surface slow his pace, he climbed higher.

“Can’t,” David shouted.