Page 111 of Final Approach
“Um, a couple of restaurants, housing developments, a few commercial properties, the airport, and ... I don’t know. Keep following her and reporting in your location. I’ll head in that direction too.”
“I’ll just do the same thing she did and ping you my location. You can follow me while I’m following her.”
“Perfect.”
Andrew did his best to close in on the vehicle containing Kristine, but it was in a hurry and going fast. And then it stopped at the airport and he was still about seven minutes out.
He pressed the gas.
A lot could happen in seven minutes.
TWENTY-FOUR
Kristine groaned. Where was the train that hit her? Twice. Her head was going to explode if she didn’t find some Motrin. But she couldn’t seem to move.
The roar of an engine reached her. She knew that sound. A plane. Wait. What? How—
Her father.
She was in one of the reclining seats and lying on her side. She tried to sit up, but the nausea was intense. “Gonna be sick,” she mumbled just in case anyone was listening.
“Bathroom’s right behind you.”
She lay for a moment trying not to heave. There was no way she could get up and make it to the bathroom.
A cold cloth settled across her throat, then a second one on her forehead and that helped. Her stomach settled slightly.
“There’s a bowl next to you if you need it, but I recommend making it to the bathroom.”
She blinked and the ceiling came into focus. Yep, definitely a plane.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t move. And thankfully, didn’t hurl. The feeling passed, but she was desperately thirsty. As though he read her mind, he pressed a bottle of water into her hand. She drank insips, making sure the liquid was going to stay put. It did and now she wanted to close her eyes and go back to sleep.
But since she seriously believed her father was going to kill her, that wasn’t happening. She just needed to figure out what the plan was, and if he was going to kill her, why was she on a plane? Was he going to drop her out of the aircraft with a faulty parachute so her death could be ruled an accident?
But talking required more effort than she had at the moment, so she stayed silent.
One other thing registered. They weren’t moving.
She was on a plane, but they were still on the ground.
Biting off a groan, she turned her aching head to look out the window. It was dark outside. They were on the tarmac. The engine was running but the pilot wasn’t in the seat.
Kristine rolled her head once more to see her father sitting in the chair across from her, reading his iPad like he was sitting at the local café with all the time in the world on his hands. “Where are we going?”
“To my own little hideaway where we can live out the rest of our days in peace.”
Okay, she was done talking. She had to figure out a way to get off this plane. The steps were down, the gun wasn’t in sight, so she could just walk off, right?
She started to stand and something clanked. She pulled with her right foot and found she was chained to the table post. Long enough to reach the bathroom behind her, but she wasn’t going anywhere else until he let her or she managed to get out of the shackle around her ankle. “You’re sick,” she whispered.
He raised a brow. “We’ll have to work on your manners.”
“Dad, you seriously can’t think you’ll get away with this.”
“I will. And as soon as Emily’s released from the hospital, she’ll be joining you. And eventually Ethan.”
“How can you afford all this?”
