Page 49 of Colton in the Wild
Hetty knew Will Colton was a fixed-wing pilot, although he hadn’t done as much for RTA since they had hired her. But that fact didn’t matter to her. What mattered was that it had finally registered exactly where they were going.
“Spence is going back there?” she almost yelped. “To where the shooter was?”
Abby looked puzzled. “To where the plane is. He’s the one who knows.”
“But what if that guy is still around? What if he’s still out there?”
A sudden image of Spence lying on the ground in a pool of blood, dying, shot through her mind and, for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. She felt a shudder go through her, tried to stop it, and failed.
“No,” she finally blurted. And then all the fears tumbled out in a single rush. “No, he can’t go back out there, that guy saw him there that night, too, and he might think Spence saw him, if he’s still there he could see him now, and maybe he won’t miss this time and—”
She stopped when Abby left her chair and came down beside her on the mat, enveloping her in a rather fierce hug.
“Shh,” she soothed. “They’re ready for that, Hetty. Armed and ready, I might add. I promise you they are. Ryan and Will would never, ever, let anything happen to Spence. We’ve been there before, and if there’s a vow we Coltons will never break, it’s that one. Nothing happens to our kids.”
Hetty gulped in a breath and tried to suppress the shakiness that had gripped her the moment she’d thought of Spence being back where the shooter had tried to kill both of them. It took her a moment or two of clenching her jaw, but she finally got her breathing back to normal.
“Now,” Abby said, still in that soothing tone, “would you like to tell me what that was about? Is there something going on between you and Spence I should know about?”
Hetty’s gaze shot to her face. She looked away quickly, but was very much afraid she had betrayed herself. “I can’t…talk about it.”
I can’t talk about it until we talk about it. Talk. Talk, talk, talk. When had that become the watchword?
“All right,” Abby said. “But may I say one thing?”
Hetty looked back at the kind, caring woman who was Spence’s mom. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so only nodded.
“I hope it’s true. That there’s something going on between you. Because you would be the best thing that could happen to him.”
With that, she got to her feet, took Hetty’s empty glass from her, and went back into the house. Leaving Hetty staring after her, her eyes stinging a little at the pure honesty and hope that had been in those words.
Chapter 26
His father hadn’t had time to look around up here before, when the focus had been on getting Hetty to the trauma center. And then, after that, it had been a crime scene. Actually, two crime scenes that overlapped. And with his son involved in one, and his nephew investigating the other, Spence should have guessed Dad would want to look around now. Neither his father nor his uncle would ever take a threat to one of their offspring lightly. Not with the family history being what it was.
Once Spence had pointed out where the areas involved were, he’d left them to it. He was happy just doing what he could to clean up the cockpit of the plane. Chuck had gotten the fuel pump fixed so that it wouldn’t be an issue during takeoff, which was the main time the high-wing aircraft needed it, but there was still a bit of debris from the window that had been shot through, and he didn’t really want to chance sitting on broken glass.
And then there were the markings the forensics people had made, showing where they’d found evidence for the photographs they’d taken. He didn’t want those there when Hetty was able to get back to the pilot’s seat.
He’d thought about trekking up the hill with them, to where the body had been buried, but decided there was no reason. If he knew his cousin Eli, they’d combed that area so thoroughly they’d probably scared away any scavengers for weeks. And there was no way seeing the spot now would erase the image in his mind of the half-buried body. Besides, he’d had no real desire to revisit the grim site anyway.
The cave, now…
The moment the idea hit, he was seized with a sudden need that seemed undeniable. He climbed out of the plane and jumped down to the beach. He headed up the hill, not quite sure where this urgency had come from. He made it there a lot faster than he had that night, although the memories were so vivid they made him feel just as wound up as if it were that night again, and Hetty was in his arms and bleeding.
He barely slowed for the steeper parts of the climb, and managed not to even look over toward the little waterfall where it had happened.
You think you’re rattled? She found the body and then got shot, she’s the one who should have been a basket case. But no, not Hetty. She held it together, because that’s what she does.
He stepped behind the big Sitka spruce and sidled through the narrow cave entrance. He had to stop for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. It didn’t look like anyone—or anything—had been in there. He supposed whatever scent they’d left behind had kept the wary wild creatures clear. Stupid, vicious humans, however, were another matter, so he trod carefully.
Once he was certain the cave was empty, he walked over to the little alcove where they had spent that long, emotion-filled night. He hadn’t really intended to do this, so he only had the flashlight from his phone to use to scan the area. He found some paper wrappings from the gauze, which he automatically picked up and stuffed in his pocket. His instinct about keeping the wilds free of unnatural litter was strong.
His stomach clenched when he found some bloodied cloth lying where Hetty had been. He’d forgotten he’d pulled one of his spare shirts out of the pack and used it to try to staunch the bleeding. The dread he’d felt then washed through him again now.
The next thing he knew, he was crouched down near the cave floor, feeling as if his legs had suddenly given out. The light from the phone lit up a dark spot on the floor of the cave. He knew it was blood, Hetty’s blood, and nausea churned his gut. He should have known then how badly hurt she’d been. He should have tried to get her out of there and on the way to help right then, shouldn’t have tried to wait until morning even though she had insisted she’d be fine. He should have—
“Spence!”
