Treacherous Skies. Elizabeth GoddardЧитать онлайн книгу.
The woman had been traumatized, and Connor would give her the space she needed for as long as he could before he pressed her for information.
He glanced at his watch. She had half an hour. After that, he’d need time to make a plan before they landed.
* * *
Maya watched the sturdy pilot rise from his seat, never taking his eyes from her, as though he was suspicious of her. Finally he had to turn his back—hopefully, in search of food.
Why would he be suspicious of her? It’s not as if she had a weapon or could hurt him. Though she had inflicted some damage to his jaw, she was the victim here.
How she wanted to trust him, to believe that God had sent someone to rescue her. But his story that he’d taken the plane and was flying it back to the rightful owner sounded so far-fetched it was difficult to believe. She knew the answer. She squeezed her eyes, reminding herself that her own situation was even more implausible. That’s why she wanted to avoid telling him what she knew for as long as possible.
When she’d woken in the dark with a throbbing headache to discover her wrists and ankles bound, and duct tape over her mouth, she’d quickly determined she was in the lavatory of an airplane, though it was larger than most she’d been in on commercial airlines. The distinct sensation of takeoff confirmed it. She tried to stand and unlock the door, but with her hands bound behind her back, it was impossible to reach.
Her mind screamed with memories from the last time she’d been kidnapped and trapped in a small, dark room. The horrors and fear of that time, locked away inside all these years, had suddenly become reality again. And that reality went by the name of Roberto Hernandez. His face was the last thing she remembered seeing before everything went black. Among her vague memories of her abduction, she remembered hearing that Roberto had a Learjet waiting to cart her back to Colombia.
The man was head of the drug cartel that rivaled her father’s, and he was the very same man who’d taken her as a child. Now he was back in her life. But why? Was he connected to her father’s no-show?
Her well-meaning plans and hard work to change her life, to escape her heritage as a drug lord’s daughter, hadn’t made any difference. Even living in a country that seemed like a world away from her birthplace of Colombia hadn’t kept her safe. She was back in the middle of hostilities between rivals, her limbs pulled and stretched by warring parties.
She had no idea how long she’d been out and given that she ached all over, she had to wonder what they’d done to her. Who had drugged her?
The pilot? Was he in on this, though he claimed his innocence?
He returned with a plate filled with an assortment of pink and chocolate cupcakes decorated in multicolored sprinkles, and an apologetic grin at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything more nutritious. The plate of sandwiches didn’t make it on to the plane,” he said.
“A sandwich would have been good,” she said, taking a cupcake. “But thank you for this.”
“At least a cupcake will tide you over until we reach Miami to refuel.”
Miami? At least he wasn’t headed to Colombia. For that she was grateful.
Ravenous hunger shoved aside her manners, and Maya ate one cupcake in two bites, licking the chocolate icing from her fingers.
She gazed up to find him still standing there, holding the platter. With his sun-bleached hair against tanned skin, strong jaw and cover-model looks, he was handsome as they came, but he also had a thoughtful gaze. Make that, concerned and distracted.
What was he up to in taking this Learjet? She got the feeling he was in the dark about the owner or else he wouldn’t have lifted it. He had that wholesome, Eagle Scout air about him.
“Why don’t you take the whole plate? You’re hungry.” He chuckled. “I’ll get some napkins and more water.”
She liked the sound of his laugh, and her earlier feelings of unease and suspicions were slowly fading.
A few seconds later, he sank into the seat across from her again, holding the napkins and water. She ate slower now, and finished off her second cupcake, then took another bottle of water from him.
At some point, he was going to ask her again what she knew, and she’d play dumb as long as she could, but she had a few questions of her own. “So, you said you took the plane on unfriendly terms. What does that mean exactly, and who are you working for?”
He was sitting back now, his elbow on the armrest and his forefinger over his lips. He arched a brow at her questions. His hesitation told her he still had his own suspicions about her, and was considering his response. She didn’t get that.
“Why don’t you go first?” he asked.
Maya had been about to eat another cupcake but lost her appetite and put it back on the platter. “Isn’t it obvious? I was kidnapped. I’ve got a lot more reason to be suspicious of you than you have to be suspicious of me.”
“Maybe I can help you.” Connor dropped his hand and squeezed the armrest. “Think. You have to know something. Who would want to kidnap you and why, for starters? For a ransom maybe? Or...did you get mixed up in something illegal? Maybe got in over your head?”
He had to be thinking she was selling drugs, of course, and someone had plans to make her pay. Or maybe he wasn’t thinking along those lines at all. But to Maya, that was the obvious scenario. She looked away, hating that anyone could ever think that of her. But the truth was not much better, in her opinion.
If she could make it out of this and back home without ever having to reveal her father’s identity and that she had planned to meet him, she just might make it home unscathed.
Please, God...
“I can see you’re not ready to trust me yet. But let’s at least be honest with each other. You know something. The name of your kidnapper was on your lips before you caught yourself. I have to wonder why you would keep that a secret.”
“Someone kidnapped me—I’m the victim here. Why are you treating me like this? Why would you question me? Are you in law enforcement?”
Regret filled his eyes, and he placed his hand on hers.
“I’m sorry. I had no right,” he said. “I’m trying to help you, that’s all. I’ll contact the authorities and explain what’s happened, that we have a kidnapped woman on board.”
He frowned, apparently not liking the sound of his words any more than she did.
“You can’t do that,” she said.
“Uh, Connor?” the other pilot called from the cockpit. “You’d better get up here.”
“What is it?” he asked, but his Caribbean-blue eyes remained on her.
Of course, he wanted to know why she’d asked him not to contact the authorities. How could she explain?
“Connor. Now.”
Maya shoved from her seat and followed him to the cockpit. The other pilot gave her a cursory glance, his full attention focused on the object soaring ahead of them outside the window.
“Why is there a fighter jet harassing us?” he asked. “Is there a reason the military would be after us?”
After dropping in the other chair, Connor assessed the situation. “That’s not military—not anymore. It’s an old out-of-commission fighter jet, an A-4 Skyhawk.” The Skyhawk flew above and slightly ahead of them and rocked its wings. “Intercept aircraft. I don’t see his wingman, but he wants us to follow.”
Connor attempted to establish radio communication without success, which meant this intercept wasn’t legitimate.
The other pilot huffed. “He’s not responding? That figures, considering everything